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BACON'S    ESSAYS 


WISDOM    OF    THE    AK"CIEFTS 


WITH  A   BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE  BY  A.    SPIERS 

PREFACE  BY  B.  MONTAGU,  AND  NOTES 

BY  DIFFERENT  WRITERS 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,   BROWK,   AND   COMPANY 


Copyright,  188^ 
By  Little,  Bhown,  and  Company. 


Xhk  UioTEBsmr  Pbbss,  Cambbioob,  Mass.,  0.  S.  A. 


SRLE 
URL 


c,cl    1^-?3S86 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


In  preparing  the  present  volume  for  the  press,  use 
has  been  freely  made  of  several  publications  which  have 
recentl}-  appeared  in  England.  The  Biographical  Notice 
of  the  author  is  taken  from  an  edition  of  the  Essays,  by 
A.  Spiers,  Ph.  D.  To  this  has  been  added  the  Preface 
to  Pickering's  edition  of  the  Essays  and  Wisdom  of  the 
Ancients,  by  Basil  Montagu,  Esq.  Parker's  edition,  by 
Thomas  Markbj-,  M.  A.,  has  furnished  the  arrangement 
of  the  Table  prefixed  to  the  Essays,  and  also  "the 
references  to  the  most  important  quotations."  The 
Notes,  including  the  translations  of  the  Latin,  are 
chiefly  copied  from  Bohn's  edition,  prepared  by  Joseph 
Devey,  M.  A.  We  have  given  the  modern  translation 
of  the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients  contained  in  Bohn's 
edition,  in  preference  to  that  "  done  by  Sir  Arthur 
Gorges,"  although  the  last  mentioned  has  a  claim  upon 
regard,  as  having  been  made  by  a  contemporary  of  Lord 
Bacon,  and  published  in  his  lifetime.  Its  language  is 
in  the  style  of  English  current  in  the  author's  age,  and 
for  this  reason  may  resemble  more  nearly  what  the  phil- 
osopher himself  would  have  used,  had  he  composed  the 
work  in  his  own  tongue  instead  of  Latin. 


CONTENTS. 


Preface  by  B.  Montagu,  Esq xi 

Introductory  Notice  of  the  Life  and  Writings  of  Bacon,  by 

A.  Spiers,  Pli.  D 1 

ESSAYS;  OR,    COUNSELS   CIVIL  AND  MORAL. 


M. 

Of  Truth      .     .     . 

1625; 

57 

p. 

Of  Death     .     .     . 

1612; 

enlarged  1625     .     .     .     . 

62 

'^s. 

Of  Unity  in  Relig- 

Of Religion  1612  ;  rewrit- 

ion   

ten  1625      

65 

f*. 

Of  Revenge  .     .     . 
Of  Adversity     ,     . 
Of  Simulation  and 

1625; 

73 

i.  6. 

1625; 

75 

w^ 

Dissimulation 

1625; 

78 

ir    7. 

Of      Parents     and 

Children    .     .     . 

1612; 

enlarged  1625     .    .     .     . 

82 

k   8- 

Of  Marriage  and 

Single  Life     .     . 

1612; 

slightly  enlarged  1625  .     , 

84 

f    9. 

Of  Envy.     .     .     . 
Of  Love  .... 

1625  ; 

87 

y  10. 

1612; 

rewritten  1625    .     .     .     . 

95 

^11. 

Of  Great  Place      . 

1612 ; 

sUghtly  enlarged  1625 

98 

12. 

Of  Boldness      .     . 
Of  Goodness,  and 

1625; 

103 

13. 

Goodness  of  Na- 

ture   

1612; 

;  enlarged  1625     .     .     .     . 

105 

/14. 

Of  Nobility  .     .     . 

1612; 

rewritten  1625    .     .     .     . 

110 

15. 

Of    Seditions    and 

Troubles    .     .     . 

1625; 

113 

vi 

CONTENTS. 

»o. 

PAGB 

i^ie. 

Of  Atheism  .    .    . 

1612; 

slightly  enlarged  1625     . 

124 

17. 

Of  Superstition     . 

1612; 

C(                       «                     (( 

130 

18. 

Of  Travel     .     .    . 

1625; 

132 

19. 

Of  Empire  .     .     . 

1612; 

much  enlarged  1625  .     . 

135 

20. 

Of  Counsels      .     . 

1612; 

enlarged  1625   .... 

143 

21. 

Of  Delays    .     .     . 

1625; 

151 

1,-22. 

Of  Cunning .     ,     . 

1612; 

rewritten  1625       .     .     . 

153 

23. 

Of  Wisdom  for  a 

Man's  Self      .     . 

1612; 

enlarged  1625  .... 

159 

24. 

Of  Innovations 

1625; 

161 

25. 

Of  Dispatch      .     . 

1612; 

163 

26. 

Of  Seeming  Wise  , 

1612; 

166 

{^27. 

Of  Friendship  .     . 

1612; 

rewritten  1625  .     .     .     . 

168 

i.  28. 

Of  Expense      .     . 

1597; 

enlarged  1612 ;  and  again 
1625 

179 

29. 

Of  the  true  Great- 
ness of  Kingdoms 

and  Estates    .     . 

1612; 

enlarged  1625  .     .     .     . 

181 

30. 

Of     Regimen     of 

Health      .     .     . 

1597; 

enlarged    1612 ;      again 
1625 

195 

31. 

Of  Suspicion     .     . 
Of  Discourse     .     . 

1625; 

197 

/,  32. 

1597; 

slightly  enlarged    1612; 

again  1625     .... 

199 

33. 

Of  Plantations  .     . 

1625; 

202 

34. 

Of  Riches     .     .     . 

1612; 

much  enlarged  1625  .    * 

207 

35. 

Of  Prophecies  .     . 

1625; 

212 

tr  36. 

Of  Ambition     .     . 

1612; 

enlarged  1625  .... 

217 

^  37. 

Of    Masques    and 

Triumphs  .     .     . 

1625 ; 

218 

38. 

Of  Nature  in  Men 

1612; 

enlarged  1625  .... 

223 

39. 

Of  Custom  and  Ed- 

ucation     .     .     . 

1612; 

((          (( 

225 

K40. 

Of  Fortune  .     .     . 

1612; 

slightly  enlai^d  1625    . 

228 

41. 

Of  Usury     .     .     . 

1625; 

231 

CONTENTS.  vu 

MO.  PAGE 

42.    Of  Youth  and  Age      1612 ;  slightly  enlarged  1625    .  237 

^43.     Of  Beauty    .     .     .     1612;       "           "          "     .     .  240 

44.  Of  Deformity    .     .    1612 ;  somewhat  altered  1625   .  241 

45.  Of  Building      .     .     1625; 243 

|r  46.     Of  Gardens.     .     .     1625;. 249 

47.  Of  Negotiating      .     1597;  enlarged      1612;      very 

slightly  altered  1625   .  259 

48.  Of  Followers  and 

Friends      ,     .     .     1597 ;  slightly  enlarged  1625     .  261 

49.  Of  Suitors    .     .     .     1597 ;  enlarged  1625  ....  264 
l<50.     Of  Studies    .     .     .     1597;         "          "     .     .     .     .  266 

51.  Of  Faction  .     .     .     1597 ;  much  enlarged  1625  .     .  269 

52.  Of  Ceremonies  and 

Respects   .     .     .     1597;  enlarged  1625  .     ...  271 

53.  Of  Praise     .     .     .     1612;         "           "      .     .     .     .  273 

54.  Of  Vainglory    .     .     1612; 276 

55.  Of  Honor  and  Rep- 

utation     .     .     .     1597 ;  omitted    1612 ;     repub- 

hshed  1625   ....  279 

56.  Of  Judicature  .     .     1612; 282 

V^57.     Of  Anger     .     .     .     1625; 289 

68.     Of  the  Vicissitude 

of  Things  .     .     .     1625 ; 292 

APPENDIX  TO  ESSAYS. 

1.  Fragment  of  an  Essay  of  Fame 301 

2.  Of  a  King 303 

3.  An  Essay  on  Death 307 

THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS  ;  A  SERIES  OF 

MYTHOLOGICAL  FABLES. 

Preface 317 

1.  Cassandra,  or  Divination.     Explained  of  too  free  and 

unseasonable  Advice 323 

2.  TyphoUj  or  a  Rebel.    Explained  of  Rebellion  .    .    .  324 


viii  CONTENTS. 

tto.  rAGF. 

3.  The  Cyclops,  or  the  Ministers  of  Terror.    Explained 

of  base  Court  Officers 327 

4.  Narcissus,  or  Self-Love 329 

5.  The  Eiver  Styx,  or  Leagues.   Explained  of  Necessity, 

in  the  Oaths  or  Solemn  Leagues  of  Princes  .    .    .    331 

6.  Pan,  or  Nature.     Explained  of  Natural  Philosophy   .    333 

7.  Perseus,  or  War.     Explained  of  the  Prepai-ation  and 

Conduct  necessary  to  War 343 

8.  Endymion,  or  a  Eavorite.     Explained  of  Court  Favor- 

ites     348 

9.  The  Sister  of  the  Giants,  or  Eame.     Explained  of 

Public  Detraction 350 

10.  Aeteon  and  Pentheus,  or  a  Curious  Man.     Explained 

of  Curiosity,  or  Prying  into  the  Secrets  of  Princes 

and  Divine  Mysteries 351 

11.  Orpheus,  or  Philosophy.     Explained  of  Natural  and 

Moral  Philosophy 353 

12.  Coelum,  or  Beginnings.     Explained  of  the  Creation, 

or  Origin  of  all  Things 357 

13.  Proteus,  or  Matter.     Explained  of  Matter  and  its 

Changes 360 

14.  Memnon,  or  a  Youth  too  forward.     Explained  of  the 

fatal  Precipitancy  of  Youth 363 

15.  Tythonus,  or   Satiety.      Explained  of  Predominant 

Passions 364 

16.  Juno's  Suitor,  or  Baseness.     Explained  of  Submission 

and  Abjection 365 

17.  Cupid,  or  an  Atom.     Explained  of  the  Corpuscular 

Philosophy 366 

18.  Diomed,  or  Zeal.     Explained  of  Persecution,  or  Zeal 

for  Religion 371 

19.  Dsedalus,  or  Mechanical  Skill.    Explained  of  Arts  and 

Artists  in  Kingdoms  and  States 374 

20.  Erictliouius,  or  Imposture.    Explained  of  the  improper 

Use  of  Force  in  Natural  Philosophy 37^ 


CONTENTS.  rs. 

HO.  PAGE 

21.  Deucalion,  or  Restitution.   Explained  of  a  useful  Hint 

in  Natural  Philosophy 379 

22.  Nemesis,  or  the  Vicissitude  of  Things.    Explained  of 

the  Reverses  of  Fortune 380 

23.  Achelous,  or  Battle.    Explained  of  War  by  Invasion  .     383 
21.     Dionysus,  or  Bacchus.     Explained  of  the  Passions     .    384 

25.  Atalauta  and  Hippo menes,  or  Gain.    Explained  of  the 

Contest  betwixt  Art  and  Nature 389 

26.  Prometheus,  or  the  State  of  Man.     Explained  of  an 

Overruling  Providence,  and  of  Human  Nature  .     .     391 

27.  Icarus  and  Scylla  and  Charybdis,  or  the  Middle  Way. 

Explained   of  Mediocrity  in  Natural  and  Moral 
Philosophy 407 

28.  Sphinx,  or  Science.     Explained  of  the  Sciences    .    .    409 

29.  Proserpine,  or   Spirit.     Explained  of  the  Spirit  in- 

cluded in  Natural  Bodies 413 

30.  Metis,  or  Counsel.     Explained  of  Princes  and  their 

Council 419 

31.  The  Sirens,  or  Pleasures.     Explained  of  Men's  Pas- 

sion for  Pleasures 430 


PREFACE. 


In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1597,  Lord  Bacon's  first 
publication  appeared.  It  is  a  small  12mo.  volume,  en- 
titled "  Essay es,  Religious  Meditations,  Places  of  Per- 
swasion  and  Disswasion."     It  is  dedicated 

"  To  M.  Anthony  Bacon,  his  deare  Brother. 

"  Louing  and  beloned  Brother,  I  doe  nowe  like  some  that 
have  an  Orcharde  ill  Neighbored,  that  gather  their  Fruit  be- 
fore it  is  ripe,  to  preuent  stealing.  These  Fragments  of  my 
Conceites  were  going  to  print.  To  labour  the  staie  of  them 
had  bin  troublesome,  and  subiect  to  interpretation ;  to  let  them 
passe  had  beene  to  aduenture  the  wrong  they  mought  receiue 
by  vntrue  Coppies,  or  by  some  Garnishment,  which  it  mought 
please  any  that  should  set  them  forth  to  bestow  vpon  them. 
Therefore  I  helde  it  best  as  they  passed  long  agoe  from  my 
Pen.  without  any  further  disgrace,  then  the  weaknesse  of  the 
Author.  And  as  I  did  euer  hold,  there  mought  be  as  great 
a  vanitie  in  retiring  and  withdrawing  mens  conceites  (except 
they  bee  of  some  nature)  from  the  World,  as  in  obtruding 
them :  So  in  these  particulars  I  haue  played  myself  the  In- 
quisitor, and  find  nothing  to  my  vnderstanding  in  them  con- 
trarie  or  infectious  to  the  state  of  Religion,  or  Manners,  but 
rather  (as  I  suppose)  medecinable.  Only  I  disliked  now  to 
put  them  out,  because  they  will  be  like  the  late  new  Halle- 


Xii  PREFACE. 

pence,  which,  though  the  Siluer  were  good,  yet  the  Peeces 
were  small.  But  since  they  would  not  stay  with  their  Mas- 
ter, but  would  needes  trauaile  abroade,  I  haue  preferred  them 
to  you  that  are  next  my  selfe,  Dedicating  them,  such  as  they 
are,  to  our  Loue,  in  the  depth  whereof  (I  assure  you)  I  some- 
times wish  your  Infirmities  translated  vppon  my  selfe,  that 
her  Maiestie  mought  haue  the  Seruice  of  so  actiue  and  able 
a  Mind,  and  I  mought  be  with  excuse  confined  to  these  Con- 
t<!mplation8  and  Studies  for  which  I  am  fittest,  so  commend 
I  you  to  the  Preseruation  of  the  Diuine  Maiestie :  From  my 
Chamber  at  Graies  Inne,  tliis  30  of  Januarie,  1597.  Your 
entire  Louing  Brother,  Fran.  Bacon." 

The  Essays,  which  are  ten  in  number,  abound  with 
condensed  thought  and  practical  wisdom,  neatly,  pressly, 
and  weightil}'  stated,  and,  like  all  his  early  works,  are 
simple,  without  imager}'.  They  are  written  in  his  favor- 
ite stjie  of  aphorisms,  although  each  essay  is  apparently 
a  continued  work,  and  without  that  love  of  antithesis 
and  false  glitter  to  which  truth  and  justness  of  thought 
are  frequently  sacrificed  b}-  the  writers  of  maxims. 

A  second  edition,  with  a  translation  of  the  Medita- 
tiones  Sacrce^  was  published  in  the  next  3'ear ;  and 
another  edition  enlarged  in  1612,  when  he  was  solicitor- 
general,  containing  thirty-eight  essays ;  and  one  still 
more  enlarged  in  1625,  containing  fifty-eight  essays,  the 
year  before  his  death. 

The  Essays  in  the  subsequent  editions  are  much  aug- 
mented, according  to  his  own  words:  "I  alwa^-s  alter 
when  I  add,  so  that  nothing  is  finished  till  all  is  fin- 
ished," and  they  are  adorned  by  happy  and  familiar 
illustration,  as  in  the  essay  of  Wisdom  for  a  Man's 
Self,  which  concludes,  in  the  edition  of  1625,  with  the 


PREFACE.  xiii 

following  extract,  not  to  be  found  in  the  previous  edi- 
tion :  "  Wisdom  for  a  man's  self  is,  in  many  branches 
thereof,  a  depraved  thing.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  rats, 
that  will  be  sure  to  leave  a  house  somewhat  before  it 
fall.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  the  fox,  that  thrusts  out  the 
badger,  who  digged  and  made  room  for  him.  It  is  the 
wisdom  of  crocodiles,  that  shed  tears  when  they  would 
devour.  But  that  which  is  specially  to  be  noted  is, 
that  those  which  (as  Cicero  says  of  Pompey)  are  /Sui 
Amantes  sine  Mivali  are  many  times  unfortunate.  And 
whereas  the}'  have  all  their  time  sacrificed  to  themselves, 
they  become  in  the  end  themselves  sacrifices  to  the  in- 
constancy of  Fortune,  whose  wings  they  thought,  by 
their  self  wisdom,  to  have  pinioned." 

So  in  the  essay  upon  Adversity,  on  which  he  had 
deeply  reflected  before  the  edition  of  1625,  when  it  first 
appeared,  he  says:  "The  virtue  of  prosperity  is  tem- 
perance ;  the  virtue  of  adversity  is  fortitude  ;  which  in 
morals  is  the  more  heroical  vii'tue.  Prosperity'  is  the 
blessing  of  the  Old  Testament ;  adversity  is  the  bless- 
ing of  the  New,  which  carrieth  the  great  benediction, 
and  the  clearer  revelation  of  God's  favor.  Yet,  even 
in  the  Old  Testament,  if  you  listen  to  David's  harp, 
you  shall  hear  as  many  hearse-like  airs  as  carols ;  and 
the  pencil  of  the  Hoi}"  Ghost  hath  labored  more  in 
describing  the  afflictions  of  Job  than  the  felicities  of 
Solomon.  Prosperity  is  not  without  many  fears  and 
distastes,  and  adversity  is  not  without  comforts  and 
hopes.  We  see  in  needle-works  and  embroideries,  it 
is  more  pleasing  to  have  a  lively  work  upon  a  sad  and 
solemn  ground  than  to  have  a  dark  and  melancholy 
work  upon  a  lightsome  ground  ;  judge,  therefore,  of  the 


xiv  PREFACE. 

pleasure  of  the  heart  by  the  pleasure  of  the  eye.  Cer- 
tainlj^  virtue  is  like  precious  odors,  most  fragrant  when 
the}'  are  incensed,  or  crushed  ;  for  prosperity  doth  best 
discover  vice,  but  adversity  doth  best  discover  virtue." 

The  Essays  were  immediatel}'  translated  into  French 
and  Italian,  and  into  Latin,  by  some  of  his  friends, 
amongst  whom  were  Hacket,  Bishop  of  Lichfield,  and 
his  constant,  affectionate  friend,  Ben  Jonson. 

His  own  estimate  of  the  value  of  this  work  is  thus 
stated  in  his  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Winchester :  "As 
for  m}'  Essa3's,  and  some  other  particulars  of  that  na- 
ture, I  count  them  but  as  the  recreations  of  my  other 
studies,  and  in  that  manner  purpose  to  continue  them ; 
though  I  am  not  ignorant  that  these  kind  of  writings 
would,  with  less  pains  and  assiduity',  perhaps  yield  more 
lustre  and  reputation  to  my  name  than  the  others  I  have 
in  hand." 

Although  it  was  not  likely  that  such  lustre  and  repu- 
tation would  dazzle  him,  the  admirer  of  Phocion,  who, 
when  applauded,  turned  to  one  of  his  friends,  and  asked, 
"  What  have  I  said  amiss?  "  although  popular  judgment 
was  not  likeh'^  to  mislead  him  who  concludes  his  obser- 
vations upon  ^  he  objections  to  learning  and  the  advan- 
tages of  knowledge  by  saying :  "  Nevertheless,  I  do  not 
pretend,  and  I  know  it  will  be  impossible  for  me,  by 
any  pleading  of  mine,  to  reverse  the  judgment  either  of 
^sop's  cock,  that  preferred  the  barlej'corn  before  the 
gem  ;  or  of  Midas,  that  being  chosen  judge  between 
Apollo,  president  of  the  Muses,  and  Pan,  god  of  the 
flocks,  judged  for  plenty  ;  or  of  Paris,  thai  judged  for 
beauty  and  love  against  wisdom  and  power.  For  these 
things  continue  as  they  have  been  ;  but  so  will  that  also 


PREFACE.  XV 

continue  whereupon  learning  hath  ever  relied  and  which 
faileth  not,  Justificata  est  sainentia  a  filiis  suis  : " 
3'et  he  seems  to  hav^e  undervalued  this  little  work,  which 
for  two  centuries  has  been  favorably'  received  bj-  ever}' 
lover  of  knowledge  and  of  beaut}-,  and  is  now  so  well 
appreciated  that  a  celebrated  professor  of  our  own  times 
truly  8a3's:  "  The  small  volume  to  which  he  has  given 
the  title  of  '  Essay's,'  the  best  known  and  the  most  popu- 
jar  of  all  his  works,  is  one  of  those  where  the  supe- 
riority of  his  genius  appears  to  the  greatest  advantage, 
the  novelty  and  depth  of  his  reflections  often  receiving 
a  strong  relief  from  the  triteness  of  the  subject.  It  may 
be  read  from  beginning  to  end  in  a  few  hours ;  and  j'et 
after  the  twentieth  perusal  one  seldom  fails  to  remark 
in  it  something  overlooked  before.  This,  indeed,  is  a 
characteristic  of  all  Bacon's  writings,  and  is  only  to  be 
accounted  for  b}^  the  inexhaustible  aliment  the}"  furnish 
to  our  own  thoughts  and  the  sympathetic  activity  they 
impart  to  our  torpid  faculties." 

During  his  life  six  or  more  editions,  which  seem  to 
have  been  pirated,  were  published ;  and  after  his  death, 
two  spurious  essays,  "Of  Death,"  and  "Of  a  King," 
the  only  authentic  posthumous  essay  being  the  Frag- 
ment of  an  Essay  on  Fame,  which  was  published  by  his 
friend  and  chaplain,  Dr.  Rawley. 

This  edition  is  a  transcript  of  the  edition  of  1625,  with 
the  posthumous  essays.  In  the  life  of  Bacon  ^  there  is  a 
minute  account  of  the  difl!'erent  editions  of  the  Essays 
and  of  their  contents. 

They  may  shortly  be  stated  as  follows :  — 

^  By  B.  Montagu.     Appendix,  note  3,  I. 
6 


xvi  PREFACE. 

First  edition,  1597,  genuine. 

There  are  two  copies  of  tiiis  edition  in  the  university 
library  at  Cambridge ;  and  there  is  Archbishop  San- 
croft's  copy  in  Emanuel  Library ;  there  is  a  copy  in  the 
Bodleian,  and  I  have  a  cop3'. 

Second  edition,  1598,  genuine. 

Third  edition,  1606,  pirated. 

Fourth  edition,  entitled  "The  Essaies  of  Sir  Francis 
Bacon,  Knight,  the  Kings  Solliciter  Generall.  Imprinted 
at  London  b}'  lohn  Beale,  1612,"  genuine.  It  was  the 
intention  of  Sir  Francis  to  have  dedicated  this  edition  to 
Henr}-,  Prince  of  Wales ;  but  he  was  prevented  by  the 
death  of  the  prince  on  the  6th  of  November  in  that  year. 
This  appears  by  the  following  letter :  — 

To  the  Most  High  and  Excellent  Prince,  Henry,  Prince  of 
Wales,  Duke  of  Cornwall,  and  Earl  of  Chester. 

It  may  please  your  Highness :  Having  divided  my  life  into 
the  contemplative  and  active  part,  I  am  desirous  to  give  his 
Majesty  and  your  Highness  of  the  fruits  of  both,  simple  though 
they  be.  To  write  just  treatises,  requireth  leisure  in  the  writer 
and  leisure  in  the  reader,  and  therefore  are  not  so  fit,  neither 
in  regard  of  your  Highuess's  princely  affairs  nor  in  regard  of 
my  continual  service ;  which  is  the  cause  that  hath  made  me 
choose  to  write  certain  brief  notes,  set  down  rather  significantly 
than  curiously,  which  I  have  called  Essays.  The  word  is  late, 
but  the  thing  is  ancient ;  for  Seneca's  Epistles  to  Lucilius,  if 
you  mark  them  well,  are  but  Essays  ;  that  is,  dispersed  medi- 
tations though  conveyed  in  the  form  of  epistles.  These  labors 
of  mine,  I  know,  cannot  be  worthy  of  your  Highness,  for  what 
can  be  worthy  of  you  ?  But  my  hope  is,  they  may  be  as  grains 
of  salt,  that  will  rather  give  you  an  appetite  than  offend  you 
with  satiety.    And  although  they  handle  those  things  wliereia 


PREFACE.  xvii 

both  men's  lives  and  their  persons  are  most  conversant ;  yet 
what  I  have  attained  I  know  not ;  but  I  have  endeavored  to 
make  them  not  vulgar,  but  of  a  nature  whereof  a  man  shall 
find  much  in  experience  and  little  in  books ;  so  as  they  are 
neither  repetitious  nor  fancies.  But,  however,  I  shall  most 
humbly  desire  your  Highn;  ss  to  accept  them  in  gracious  part, 
and  to  conceive,  that  if  I  cannot  rest  but  must  show  my  duti- 
ful and  devoted  aftoction  to  your  Highness  in  these  things 
which  proceed  from  myself,  I  shall  be  much  more  ready  to 
do  it  in  perfonnance  of  any  of  your  princely  commandments. 
And  so  wishing  your  Highness  all  princely  felicity,  I  rest  your 
Highness's  most  humble  servant, 
1612.  Fr.  Bacon, 

It  was  dedicated  as  fellows  :  — 

To  my  loving  Brothe:,  Sir  John  Constable,  Knt. 

My  last  Essaies  I  dedicated  to  my  deare  brother  Master 
Anthony  Bacon,  M^ho  is  with  God.  Looking  amongst  my 
Papers  this  vacation,  I  found  others  of  the  same  nature  : 
which,  if  I  myselfe  shall  not  suflFer  to  be  lost,  it  seemeth  the 
World  will  not ;  by  the  often  printing  of  the  former.  Miss- 
ing my  Brother,  I  found  you  next ;  in  respect  of  bond  both  of 
neare  Alliance,  and  of  straight  Friendship  and  Societie,  and 
particularly  of  communication  in  Studies.  Wherein  I  must 
acknowledge  my  selfe  beholding  to  you.  For  as  my  Businesse 
found  rest  in  my  Contemplations,  so  my  Contemplations  ever 
found  rest  in  your  loving  Conference  and  Judgment.  So  wish- 
ing you  all  good,  I  remaine  your  louing  Brother  and  Friend, 

Fra.  Bacon. 

Fifth  edition,  1612,  pirated.  Sixth  edition,  1613,  pi- 
rated. Seventh  edition,  1624,  pirated.  Eighth  edition, 
1624,  pirated.  Ninth  edition,  entitled,  "The  Essayes 
or  Covnsels,  Civill  and  Morall,  of  Francis  Lo.  Vervlam, 


xviii  PREFACE. 

Viscovnt  St.  Alban.  Newly  enlarged.  London,  Printed 
by  lohn  Haviland  for  Hanna  Barret  and  Richard  Whita- 
ker,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  Signe  of  the  King's  Head 
in  Paul's  Churchyard."    1625,  genuine. 

This  edition  is  a  small  quarto  of  340  pages  ;  it  clearly 
was  pubUshed  by  Lord  Bacon ;  and  in  the  next  year, 
1626,  Lord  Bacon  died.  The  Dedication  is  as  follows, 
to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham :  — 

To  the  Eight  Honorable  my  very  good  Lo.  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham his  Grace,  Lo.  High  Admirall  of  England. 

Excellent  Lo. :  —  Salomon  sales,  A  good  Name  is  as 
a  precious  Oyutment ;  and  I  assure  myselfe,  such  wil  your 
Grace's  Name  bee,  with  Posteritie.  For  your  Fortune  and 
Merit  both,  haue  beene  eminent.  And  you  haue  planted  things 
that  are  like  to  last.  I  doe  now  publish  my  Essayes  ;  which, 
of  all  my  other  Workes,  have  beene  most  currant :  for  that,  as 
it  seemes,  they  come  home  to  Mens  Businesse  and  Bosomes.  I 
haue  enlarged  them  both  in  number  and  weight,  so  that  they 
are  indeed  a  new  Work.  I  thought  it  therefore  agreeable  to 
my  Affection,  and  Obligation  to  your  Grace,  to  prefix  your 
Name  before  them,  both  in  English  and  in  Latine.  For  I 
doe  conceiue,  that  the  Latine  Volume  of  them  (being  in  the 
vniuersal  language)  may  last  as  long  as  Bookes  last.  My 
Instauration  I  dedicated  to  the  King :  my  Historie  of  Henry 
the  Seventh  (which  I  haue  now  also  translated  into  Latine), 
and  my  Portions  of  Naturall  History,  to  the  Prince  :  and  these 
I  dedicate  to  your  Grace :  being  of  the  best  Fruits,  that  by 
the  good  encrease  which  God  gives  to  my  pen  and  labours, 
I  could  yeeld.  God  leade  your  Grace  by  the  Hand.  Your 
Graces  most  obhged  and  faithfull  Seruaut. 

Fr.  St.  Alban. 


PREFACE.  xix 

Of  this  edition,  Lord  Bacon  sent  a  cop}'  to  the  Mar- 
quis Fiat,  with  the  following  letter :  ^  — 

**  Monsieur  l'Ambassadeur  mon  Filz  :  Voyant  qne 
vostre  Excellence  faict  et  traite  Mariarjes,  non  seulemeiit  entre 
les  Princes  d'Angleterre  co  dc  France,  niais  aussi  entre  les 
langues  (puis  que  faictes  traduire  mon  Liure  de  I'Advance- 
ment  des  Sciences  en  Francois)  i'ai  bien  voulu  vous  envoyer 
mon  Liure  demierement  imprime  que  i'avois  pourveu  pour 
vous,  mais  i'estois  en  double,  de  le  vous  envoyer,  pour  ce 
qu'il  estoit  escrit  en  Anglois.  Mais  a'  cest'heure  pour  la  raison 
susdicte  le  le  vous  envoye.  C'est  un  Recompilement  de  mes 
Essays  Morales  et  Civiles;  mais  tellement  enlargies  et  en- 
richies,  tant  de  nombre  que  de  poix,  que  c'est  de  fait  un  ouvre 
nouveau.  le  vous  baise  les  mains,  et  reste  vostre  tres  afiFec- 
tion^e  Ami,  et  tres  humble  Serviteur. 

THE    SAME   IN   ENGLISH. 

My  Lord  Ambassador,  my  Son  :  Seeing  that  your  Ex- 
cellency makes  and  treats  of  Marriages,  not  only  betwixt  the 
Princes  of  France  and  England,  but  also  betwixt  their  lan- 
guages (for  you  have  caused  my  book  of  the  Advancement  of 
Learning  to  be  translated  into  French),  I  was  much  inclined 
to  make  you  a  present  of  the  last  book  which  I  published,  and 
which  I  had  in  readiness  for  you.  I  was  sometimes  in  doubt 
whether  I  ought  to  have  sent  it  to  you,  because  it  was  writ- 
ten in  the  English  tongue.  But  now,  for  that  very  reason,  I 
send  it  to  you.  It  is  a  recompilement  of  my  Essays  Moral 
and  Civil ;  but  in  such  manner  enlarged  and  enriched  both  in 
number  and  weight,  that  it  is  in  effect  a  new  work.  I  kiss 
your  hands,  and  remain  your  most  affectionate  friend  and  most 
humble  servant,  &c. 

Of  the  translation  of  the  Essays  into  Latin,  Bacon 
speaks  in  the  following  letter:  — 

1  Baconiana,  201. 


XX  PKEFACE. 

"  To  Mr.  Tobib  Mathew  :  It  is  true  my  labors  are  now 
most  set  to  have  those  works  which  I  had  formerly  published, 
as  that  of  Advancement  of  Learning,  that  of  Henry  VII.,  that 
of  the  Essays,  being  retractate  and  made  more  perfect,  well 
translated  into  Latin  by  the  help  of  some  good  pens  which  for- 
sake me  not.  For  these  modern  languages  will,  at  one  time 
or  other,  play  the  bankrupt  with  books ;  and  since  I  have 
lost  much  time  with  this  age,  I  would  be  glad,  as  God  shall 
give  me  leave,  to  recover  it  with  posterity.  For  the  Essay 
of  Friendsliip,  while  I  took  your  speech  of  it  for  a  cursory 
request,  I  took  my  promise  for  a  compliment.  But  since  you 
caU  for  it,  I  shall  perform  it." 

In  his  letter  to  Father  Fulgentio,  giving  some  account 
of  his  writings,  he  says :  — 

"  The  Novum  Organum  should  immediately  follow ;  but  my 
moral  and  political  writings  step  in  between  as  being  more 
finished.  These  are,  the  History  of  King  Henry  VII.,  and  the 
small  book,  which,  in  your  language,  you  have  called  Saggi 
Morali,  but  I  give  it  a  graver  title,  that  of  Sermones  Fideles, 
or  Interiora  Rerum,  and  these  Essays  will  not  only  be  enlarged 
in  number,  but  stiQ  more  in  substance." 

The  nature  of  the  Latin  edition,  and  of  the  Essays  in 
general,  is  thus  stated  by  Archbishop  Tenison :  — 

"  The  Essays,  or  Counsels  Civil  and  Moral,  though  a  by- 
work  also,  do  yet  make  up  a  book  of  greater  weight  by  far 
than  the  Apothegms ;  and  coming  home  to  men's  business 
and  bosoms,  his  lordship  entertained  this  pei-suasion  concern- 
ing them,  that  tlie  Latin  volume  might  last  as  long  as  books 
should  last.  His  lordship  wrote  them  in  the  English  tongue, 
and  enlarged  them  as  occasion  served,  and  at  last  added  to 
them  the  Colors  of  Good  and  Evil,  which  are  likewise  found 
in  his  book  De  Augnientis.   The  Latin  translation  of  them  waa 


PREFACE.  xxi 

a  work  performed  by  divers  hands :  by  those  of  Dr.  Ilacket 
(late  Bishop  of  Lichfield),  Mr.  Benjamin  Jonson  (the  learned 
and  judicious  poet,)  and  some  others,  whose  names  I  once 
heard  from  Dr.  Eawley,  but  I  cannot  now  recall  them.  To 
this  Latin  edition  he  gave  the  title  of  Sermones  Fideles,  after 
tlie  manner  of  the  Jews,  who  called  the  words  Adagies,  or 
Observations  of  the  Wise,  Faithful  Sayings ;  that  is,  credible 
propositions  worthy  of  firm  assent  and  ready  acceptance.  And 
(as  I  think),  he  alluded  more  particularly,  in  this  title,  to  a 
passage  in  Ecclesiastes,  where  the  preacher  saith,  tnat  he 
sought  to  find  out  Verba  Delectabilia  (as  Tremellius  render- 
eth  the  Hebrew) ,  pleasant  words  ;  (that  is,  perhaps,  his  Book 
of  Canticles ;)  and  Verba  Fidelia  (as  the  same  Tremellius), 
Faithful  Sayings  ;  meaning,  it  may  be,  his  collection  of  Prov- 
erbs. In  the  next  verse,  he  calls  them  Words  of  the  Wise, 
and  so  many  goads  and  nails  given  ab  eodem  pastore,  from  the 
same  shepherd  [of  the  flock  of  Israel"]. 

In  the  year  1638,  Rawley  published,  in  folio,  a 
volume  containing,  amongst  other  works,  Sermones 
J^ideles,  ab  ipso  Honoratissimo  Auctore,  proeterquam 
in  paucis,  Latinitate  donati.  In  his  address  to  the 
reader,  he  says  :  — 

Accedunt,  quaspriiis  Delibationes  Civiles  et  Morales  inscrip- 
serat ;  Quas  etiam  in  Linguas  plurimas  Modernas  translatas 
esse  novit ;  sed  eas  posted,  et  Numero,  et  Pondere,  auxit  ;  In 
tantum,  ut  veluti  Opus  Novum  videri  possint ;  Quas  mutato 
Titulo,  Sermones  Fideles,  sive  Interiora  Rerum,  inscribi  pla- 
cuit.  The  title-page  and  dedication  are  annexed :  Sermones 
Fideles  sive  Interiora  Berum.  Per  Franciscum  Baconum  BarO' 
ronem  de  Vervlamio,  Vice-Comitem  Sancti  Albani.  Londini 
Excusum  typis  Fdwardi  Griffin.  Prostant  ad  Insignia  Regia 
in  Coemeterio  D.  Pauli,  apud  Eiehardum  Whitaherum,  1G33. 


xxii  PREFACE. 

Illustri  et  Excelleoti  Domino  Georgia  Duci  BiickinghamuB, 
Sumino  Anglice  Admirallio. 

Honoratissime  Domine,  Salomon  inquit,  Nomen  honum  est 
instar  Vnguenti  fragrantis  et  pretiosi  ;  Neque  dubito,  quin  tale 
futurum  sit  Nomen  tuum  apud  Posteros.  Eteuim  et  For- 
tuna,  et  Merita  tua,  praecelluerunt.  Et  videris  ea  plantasse, 
quae  sint  duratura.  In  lucein  jam  edere  mihi  visum  est  Deliba- 
tiones  meas,  quae  ex  onmibus  meis  Operibus  fuerunt  acceptis- 
simae  :  Quia  forsitan  videntur,  prae  caeteris,  Hominum  Negotia 
stringere,  et  in  sinus  fluere.  Eas  autem  auxi,  et  Numero,  et 
Pondere ;  In  tantum,  ut  plan5  Opus  Novum  sint.  Consenta- 
neum  igitur  duxi,  Aflfectui,  et  Obligation!  mese,  erga  Illustris- 
simam  Dominationem  tuam,  ut  Nomen  tuum  illis  praefigam, 
tarn  in  Editione  Anglicd,  quam  Latind.  Etenim,  in  bona 
spe  sum,  Volumen  earum  in  Latinam  {Linguam  scilicet  uui- 
versalem),  versum,  posse  durare,  quamdiil  lAhri  et  LitercB 
durent.  Instaurationem  meam  Itegi  dicavi  :  Historiam  Regni 
Henrid  Septimi  (quam  etiam  in  Latinum  verti  et  Poitiones 
meas  Naturalis  Historiie,  Prindpi)  :  Has  autem  Delibationes 
Illustrissimes  Dominationi  tuae  dico,  Cum  sint,  ex  Fructibus 
optimis,  quos  Gratia  divina  Calami  mei  laboribus  indulgeute, 
exhibere  potui.  Deus  illustrissimam  Dominationem  tuam  manu 
ducat.  UlustrissimcB  Dominationis  tuse  Servus  Devinctissimua 
et  Fidelis.  Fr.  S.  Alban. 

In  the  3'ear  1618,  the  Essays,  together  with  the  Wis- 
dom of  the  Ancients,  was  translated  into  Italian,  and 
dedicated  to  Cosmo  de  Medici,  by  Tobie  Mathew ;  and 
in  the  following  j-ear  the  Essays  were  translated  into 
French  by  Sir  Arthur  Gorges,  and  printed  in  London. 


PREFACE.  xxiii 


WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

In  the  year  1609,  as  a  relaxation  from  abstruse  specu- 
lations, he  published  in  Latin  his  interesting  little  work^ 
De  Sapientia  Veterum. 

This  tract  seems,  in  former  times,  to  have  been  much 
valued.  The  fables,  abounding  with  a  union  of  deep 
thought  and  poetic  beaut}',  are  tliirty-one  in  number, 
of  which  a  part  of  The  Sirens,  or  Pleasures,  may  be 
selected  as  a  specimen. 

In  this  fable  he  explains  the  common  but  erroneous 
supposition  that  knowledge  and  the  conformit}'  of  the 
will,  knowing  and  acting,  are  convertible  terms.  Of 
this  error,  he,  in  his  essay  of  Custom  and  Education, 
admonishes  his  readers,  by  saying:  "Men's  thoughts 
are  much  according  to  their  inclination  ;  their  discourse 
and  speeches  according  to  their  learning  and  infused 
opinions,  but  their  deeds  are  after  as  they  have  been 
accustomed ;  iEsop's  Damsel,  transformed  from  a  cat 
to  a  woman,  sat  very  demurely  at  the  board-end  till  a 
mouse  ran  before  her."  In  the  fable  of  the  Sirens  he 
exhibits  the  same  truth,  saj'ing:  "The  habitation  of 
the  Sirens  was  in  certain  pleasant  islands,  from  whence, 
as  soon  as  out  of  their  watchtower  the}'  discovered  any 
ships  approaching,  with  their  sweet  tunes  they  would 
first  entice  and  stay  them,  and,  having  them  in  their 
power,  would  destroy  them  ;  and,  so  great  were  the  mis- 
chiefs they  did,  that  these  isles  of  the  Sirens,  even  as 
far  off  as  man  can  ken  them,  appeared  all  over  white 
with  the  bones  of  unburied  carcasses ;  by  which  it  is 
signified  that  albeit  the  examples  of  afflictions  be  mani- 


xxiv  PREFACE. 

fest  and  eminent,  j-et  they  do  not  sufficient!}-  deter  us 
from  the  wicked  enticements  of  pleasure." 

The  following  is  the  account  of  the  different  editions 
of  this  work :  The  first  was  published  in  1609.  In  Feb- 
ruary 27,  1610,  Lord  Bacon  wrote  to  Mr.  Mathew,  upon 
sending  his  book  De  Sapientia  Veterum  :  — 

"  Mr.  Mathew  :  I  do  very  heartily  thank  you  for  your  let- 
ter of  the  24th  of  August,  from  Salamanca}  and  in  recom- 
pense therefore  I  send  you  a  little  work  of  mine  that  hath 
begun  to  pass  the  world.  They  tell  me  my  Latin  is  turned 
into  silver,  and  become  current :  had  you  been  here,  you  should 
have  been  my  inquisitor  before  it  came  forth  ;  but,  I  think,  the 
greatest  inquisitor  in  Spain  will  allow  it.  But  one  thing  you 
must  pardon  me  if  I  make  no  haste  to  believe,  that  the  world 
^should  be  grown  to  such  an  ecstasy  as  to  reject  truth  in  philoso- 
phy, because  the  author  dissenteth  in  religion ;  no  more  than 
they  do  by  Aristotle  or  Averroes.  My  great  work  goeth  for- 
ward ;  and  after  my  manner,  I  alter  even  when  I  add  ;  so  that 
nothing  is  finished  till  all  bo  finished.  This  I  have  written  in 
the  midst  of  a  terra  and  parliament ;  thinking  no  time  so  pos- 
sessed, but  t'.iat  I  should  talk  of  these  matters  with  so  good 
and  dear  a  friend.  And  so  with  my  wonted  wishes  I  leave 
you  to  God's  goodness. 

"  From  Gray's  Inn,  Feb.  27,  IGIO." 

And  in  his  letter  to  Father  Fulgentio,  giving  some 
account  of  his  writings,  he  says :  "  M}'  Essa3's  will  not 
only  be  enlarged  in  number,  but  still  more  in  substance. 
Along  with  thorn  goes  the  little  piece  De  Sapientia 
Veterum." 

In  the  Advancement  of  Learning  he  saj's :  — 

"  There  remaineth  yet  another  use  of  poesy  parabolical, 
opposite  to  that  which  we  hist  mentioned ;  for  that  tendctli 


PREFACE.  XXV 

to  demonstrate  and  illustrate  that  which  is  taught  or  deliv- 
ered, and  this  other  to  retire  and  obscure  it ;  that  is,  when  the 
secrets  and  mysteries  of  religion,  policy,  or  philosophy  are  in- 
volved in  fables  or  parables.  Of  this  in  divine  poesy  we  see 
the  use  is  authorized.  lu  heathen  poesy  we  see  the  exposition 
of  fables  doth  fall  out  sometimes  with  great  felicity ;  as  in  the 
fable  that  the  giants  being  overthrown  in  their  war  agamst 
the  gods,  the  earth,  their  mother,  in  revenge  thereof  brought 
forth  Fame,  — 

Illam  Terra  parens,  ir&  irritata  Deorum, 
Extremam,  ut  perhibent,  Cceo  EnceUtdoque  sororem 
Progenuit, 

expounded,  that  when  princes  and  monarchs  have  suppressed 
actual  and  open  rebels,  then  the  malignity  of  the  people,  which 
is  the  mother  of  rebellion,  doth  bring  forth  libels  and  slanders, 
and  taxations  of  the  State,  which  is  of  the  same  kind  with 
rebellion,  but  more  feminine.  So  in  the  fable,  that  the  rest 
of  the  gods  ha^^ng  conspired  to  bind  Jupiter,  Pallas  chilled 
Briareus,  with  his  Imndred  hands,  to  his  aid ;  expounded,  that 
monarchies  need  not  fear  any  curbing  of  their  absoluteness  by 
mighty  subjects,  as  brag  as  by  wisdom  they  keep  the  hearts 
of  the  people,  who  will  be  sure  to  come  in  on  their  side.  So 
in  the  fable,  that  Achilles  was  brought  up  under  Chiron,  the 
centaur,  who  was  part  a  man  and  part  a  beast,  expounded 
ingeniously,  but  corruptly  by  Machiavel,  that  it  belongeth  to 
the  education  and  discipline  of  princes  to  know  as  well  how 
to  play  the  part  of  the  lion  in  violence,  and  the  fox  in  guile, 
as  of  the  man  in  virtue  and  justice.  Nevertheless,  in  many 
the  like  encounters,  I  do  rather  think  that  the  fable  was  first, 
and  the  exposition  then  devised,  than  that  the  moral  was 
first,  and  thereupon  the  fable  framed.  For  I  find  it  was  an 
ancient  vanity  in  Chrysippus,  that  troubled  himself  with  great 
contention  to  fasten  the  assertions  of  the  stoics  upon  the  fic- 
tious  of  the  ancient  poets ;  but  yet  that  all  the  fables  and 
fictions  of  the   poets  were   but   pleasure,   and    not  figure,   1 


xxvi  PREFACE. 

interpose  no  opinion.  Surely,  of  those  poets  wtich  are  Tio\f 
extant,  even  Homer  himself  (notwithstanding  he  was  made  a 
kind  of  Scripture  by  the  latter  schools  of  the  Grecians),  yet  I 
should  without  any  difficulty  pronounce  that  his  fables  had  no 
such  inwardness  in  his  own  meaning;  but  what  they  might 
have  upon  a  more  original  tradition,  is  not  ea«y  to  affirm  ;  for 
he  was  not  the  inventor  of  many  of  them." 

In  the  treatise  J)e  Augmentis  the  same  sentiments 
will  be  found,  with  a  slight  alteration  in  the  expres- 
sions.    He  says :  — 

"  There  is  another  use  of  parabolical  poesy  opposite  to  the 
former,  which  tendeth  to  the  folding  up  of  those  things,  the 
dignity  whereof  deserves  to  he  retired  and  distinguished,  as 
with  a  drawn  curtain ;  that  is,  when  the  secrets  and  mysteries 
of  religion,  pohcy,  and  philosophy  are  veiled  and  invested  with 
fables  and  parables.  But  whether  there  be  any  mystical  sense 
couched  under  the  ancient  fables  of  the  poets,  may  admit  some 
doubt ;  and,  indeed,  for  our  part,  we  incline  to  this  opinion, 
as  to  think  that  there  was  an  infused  mystery  in  many  of  the 
ancient  fables  of  the  poets.  Neither  doth  it  move  us  that  these 
matters  are  left  commonly  to  school-boys  and  grammarians, 
and  so  are  embased,  that  we  should  therefore  make  a  slight 
judgment  upon  them,  but  contrariwise,  because  it  is  clear  that 
the  writings  which  recite  those  fables,  of  all  the  writings  of 
men,  next  to  sacred  writ,  are  the  most  ancient;  and  that  the 
fables  themselves  are  far  more  ancient  than  they  (being  they 
are  alleged  by  those  writers,  not  as  excogitated  by  them,  but 
as  credited  and  rccepted  before)  seem  to  be,  like  a  thin  rarefied 
air,  which,  from  the  traditions  of  more  ancient  nations,  fell  into 
the  flutes  of  the  Grecians." 

Of  this  tract,  Archbishop  Tenison,  in  his  JBaconiana, 
Baj's :  — 


PREFACE.  xxvii 

"  In  the  seventh  place,  I  may  reckon  his  book  De  Sapientia 
Veterum,  written  by  him  in  Latin,  and  set  forth  a  second  time 
with  enlargement ;  and  translated  into  English  by  Sir  Arthur 
Gorges ;  a  book  in  which  the  sages  of  former  times  are  ren- 
dered more  wise  than  it  may  be  they  were,  by  so  dexterous  an 
interpreter  of  their  fables.  It  is  this  book  which  Mr.  Sandys 
means,  in  those  words  which  he  hath  put  before  his  notes  on  the 
Metamorphosis  of  Ovid.  *  Of  modem  writers,  I  have  received 
the  greatest  light  from  Geraldus,  Pontanus,  Ficinus,  Vives, 
Comes,  Scaliger,  Sabinus,  Pierius,  and  the  crown  of  the  lat- 
ter, the  Viscount  of  St.  Albans.' 

"  It  is  true,  the  design  of  this  book  was  instruction  in  natu- 
ral and  civil  matters,  either  couched  by  the  ancients  under 
those  fictions,  or  rather  made  to  seem  to  be  so  by  his  lord- 
ship's wit,  in  the  opening  and  applying  of  them.  But  because 
the  first  ground  of  it  is  poetical  story,  therefore,  let  it  have  this 
place  tiU  a  fitter  be  found  for  it." 

The  author  of  Bacon's  Life,  inthe  £iographia  Britan- 

nica,  says :  — 

"  That  he  might  relieve  himself  a  little  fi-om  the  severity  of 
these  studies,  and,  as  it  were,  amuse  himself  with  erecting  a 
magnificent  pavilion,  while  his  great  palace  of  philosophy  was 
building,  he  composed  and  sent  abroad,  in  1610,  his  celebrated 
treatise  of  the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,  in  which  he  showed 
that  none  had  studied  them  more  closely,  was  better  acquainted 
with  their  beauties,  or  had  pierced  deeper  into  their  meaning. 
There  have  been  very  few  books  pubUshed,  either  in  this  or 
any  other  nation,  which  either  deserved  or  met  with  more  gen- 
eral applause  than  this,  and  scarce  any  that  are  like  to  retain 
it  longer,  for  in  this  performance  Sir  Francis  Bacon  gave  a 
singular  proof  of  his  capacity  to  please  all  parties  in  literature, 
as  in  his  political  conduct  he  stood  fair  with  all  the  parties 
in  the  nation.  The  admirers  of  antiquity  were  charmed  with 
this  discourse,  which  seems  expressly  calculated  to  justify  their 


xxviii  PREFACE. 

admiration ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  their  opposites  were  no 
less  pleased  with  a  piece  from  which  they  thought  they  could 
demonstrate  that  the  sagacity  of  a  modem  genius  had  found 
out  much  better  meanings  for  the  ancients  than  ever  were 
meant  by  them." 

And  Mallet,  in  his  Life  of  Bacon,  says :  — 

"  In  1610  he  published  another  treatise,  entitled.  Of  the 
Wisdom  of  the  Ancients.  This  work  bears  the  same  stamp 
of  an  original  and  inventive  genius  with  his  other  perform- 
ances. Resolving  not  to  tread  in  the  steps  of  those  who  had 
gone  before  him,  men,  according  to  his  own  expression,  not 
learned  beyond  certain  commonplaces,  he  strikes  out  a  new 
tract  for  himself,  and  enters  into  the  most  secret  recesses  of 
this  wild  and  shadowy  region,  so  as  to  appear  new  on  a  known 
and  beaten  subject.  Upon  the  whole,  if  we  cannot  bring  our- 
selves readily  to  believe  that  there  is  all  the  physical,  moral, 
and  political  meaning  veiled  under  those  fables  of  antiquity, 
which  he  has  discovered  in  them,  we  must  own  that  it  required 
no  common  penetration  to  be  mistaken  with  so  great  an  appear- 
ance of  probability  on  his  side.  Though  it  still  remains  doubt- 
ful whether  the  ancients  were  so  knowing  as  he  attempts  to 
show  they  were,  the  variety  and  depth  of  his  own  knowledge 
are,  in  that  very  attempt,  unquestionable." 

In  the  year  1619  this  tract  was  translated  by  Sir 
Arthur  Gorges.  Prefixed  to  the  work  are  two  letters  ; 
the  one  to  the  Earl  /of  Salisbury,  the  other  to  the  Uni- 
versity of  Cambridge,  which  Gorges  omits,  and  dedi- 
cates his  translation  to  the  high  and  illustrious  princess 
the  Lady  EUzabeth  of  Great  Britain,  Duchess  of  Baviare, 
Countess  Palatine  of  Rheine,  and  chief  electress  of  the 
empire. 

This  translation,  it  should  be  noted,  was  published 


during 

works. 

The 

are :  — 

Year. 
1609 
1617 
1618 
1619 
1620 
1633 
1634 
1638 
1691 
1804 


PREFACE.  xxix 

the  life  of  Lord  Bacon  by  a  great  admirer  of  his 

editions  of  this  work  with  which  I  am  acquainted 


Language. 

Latin, 
(( 

Italian, 

English, 
« 

Latin, 


French, 


Printer. 
R.  Barker, 
J.  Bill, 
G.  BiU, 
J.  Bill, 

F.  Maire, 
F.  Kingston, 
E.  Griffin, 
H.  Wetstein, 
H.  Fran  tin. 


Place. 
London, 


Lug.  Bat., 

London, 
(< 

Amsterdam, 
Dijon, 


Size. 
12mo. 


Folio. 
12mo. 
8vo. 


NOTICE 

OF 

FRANCIS  BACON. 


Francis  Bacon,  the  subject  of  the  following 
memoir,  was  the  youngest  son  of  highly  remarkable 
parents.  His  father.  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  was  an 
eminent  lawyer,  and  for  twenty  years  Keeper  of  the 
Seals  and  Privy  Counsellor  to  Queen  Elizabeth.  Sir 
Nicholas  was  styled  by  Camden  sacris  conciliis  alte- 
rum  columen ;  he  was  the  author  of  some  unpub- 
lished discourses  on  law  and  politics,  and  of  a 
commentary  on  the  minor  prophets.  He  discharged 
the  duties  of  his  high  office  with  exemplary  pro- 
priety and  wisdom ;  he  preserved  through  life  the 
integrity  of  a  good  man,  and  the  moderation  and 
simplicity  of  a  great  one.  He  had  inscribed  over 
the  entrance  of  his  hall,  at  Gorhambury,  the  motto, 
mediocria  Jirma  ;  and  when  the  Queen,  in  a  progress, 
paid  him  a  visit  there,  she  remarked  to  him  that  his 
house  was  too  small  for  him.  "  Madam,"  answered 
the  Lord  Keeper,  "my  house  is  well,  but  it  is  you 


2       NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

that  have  made  me  too  great  for  my  house."  This 
anecdote  has  been  preserved  by  his  son,^  who,  had 
he  as  carefully  retained  the  lesson  of  practical  wis- 
dom it  contained,  might  have  avoided  the  misfor- 
tunes and  sorrows  of  his  checkered  life. 

Bacon's  mother,  Anne  Cooke,  was  the  daughter 
of  Sir  Anthony  Cooke,  tutor  to  King  Edward  the 
Sixth  ;  like  the  young  ladies  of  her  time,  like  Lady 
Jane  Grey,  like  Queen  Elizabeth,  she  received  an 
excellent  classical  education  ;  her  sister,  Lady  Bur- 
leigh, was  pronounced  by  Roger  Ascham,  Queen 
Elizabeth's  preceptor,  to  be,  with  the  exception  of 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  the  best  Greek  scholar  among  the 
young  women  of  England.^  Anne  Cooke,  the  future 
Lady  Bacon,  corresponded  in  Greek  with  Bishop 
Jewel,  and  translated  from  the  Latin  this  divine's 
Apologia ;  a  task  which  she  performed  so  well  that 
it  is  said  the  good  prelate  could  not  discover  an 
inaccuracy  or  suggest  an  alteration.  She  also  trans- 
lated from  the  Italian  a  volume  of  sermons  on  fate 
and  freewill,  written  by  Bernardo  Ochino,  an  Italian 
reformer.     Francis  Bacon,  the  youngest  of  five  sons, 

^  Bacon's  Apophthegms. 

2  It  is  not  surprising  that  ladies  then  received  an  education 
rare  in  our  own  times.  It  should  be  remembered  that  in  the 
sixteentli  century  Latin  was  the  language  of  courts  and  schools, 
of  diplomacy,  politics,  and  theology  ;  it  was  the  universal  lan- 
guage, and  there  was  then  no  literature  in  the  inodei-n  tongues, 
except  the  Italian  ;  indeed  all  knowledge,  ancient  and  modem, 
was  conveyed  to  the  world  in  the  language  of  the  ancients.  The 
great  productions  of  Athens  and  Rome  were  the  intellectual  all  of 
our  ancestors  down  to  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.       3 

inherited  the  classical  learning  and  taste  of  both  his 
parents. 

He  was  bom  at  York  House,  in  the  Strand,  Lon- 
don, on  the  22d  of  January,  1560-61.  His  health, 
when  he  was  a  boy,  was  delicate ;  a  circumstance 
which  may  perhaps  account  for  his  early  love  of 
sedentary  pursuits,  and  probably  the  early  gravity 
of  his  demeanor.  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  tells  us, 
took  particular  delight  in  "trying  him  with  ques- 
tions," when  he  was  quite  a  child,  and  was  so  much 
pleased  with  the  sense  and  manliness  of  his  answers 
that  she  used  jocularly  to  call  him  "  her  young  Lord 
Keeper  of  the  Seals."  Bacon  himself  relates  that 
while  he  was  a  boy,  the  Queen  once  asked  him  his 
age ;  the  precocious  courtier  readily  replied  that  he 
"  was  just  two  years  younger  than  her  happy  reign." 
He  is  said,  also,  when  very  young,  to  have  stolen 
away  from  his  playfellows  in  order  to  investigate 
the  cause  of  a  singular  echo  in  St.  James's  Fields, 
which  attracted  his  attention. 

Until  the  age  of  thirteen  he  remained  under  the 
tuition  of  his  accomplished  mother,  aided  by  a  pri- 
vate tutor  only;  under  their  care  he  attained  the 
elements  of  the  classics,  that  education  preliminary 
to  the  studies  of  the  University.  At  thirteen  he 
was  sent  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where  his 
father  had  been  educated.  Here  he  studied  dili- 
gently the  great  models  of  antiquity,  mathematics, 
and  philosophy,  worshipped,  however,  but  indevoutly 
at  the  shrine  of  Aristotle,  whom,  according  to  Raw- 


4       NOTICE  OF  FKANCIS  BACON. 

ley,  his  chaplain  and  biographer,  he  already  derided 
"  for  the  unfruitfidness  of  the  way,  —  being  only 
strong  for  disputation,  but  barren  of  the  production 
of  works  for  the  life  of  man."  He  remained  three 
years  at  this  seat  of  learning,  without,  however, 
taking  a  degree  at  his  departure. 

When  he  was  but  sixteen  years  old  he  began  his 
travels,  the  indispensable  end  of  every  finished  edu- 
cation in  England.  He  repaired  to  Paris,  where  he 
resided  some  time  under  the  care  of  Sir  Amyas  Paulet, 
the  English  minister  at  the  court  of  France. 

Here  he  invented  an  ingenious  method  of  writing 
in  cipher ;  an  art  which  he  probably  cultivated  with 
a  view  to  a  diplomatic  career. 

He  visited  several  of  the  provinces  of  France  and 
of  the  towns  of  Italy.  Italy  was  then  the  country 
in  which  human  knowledge  in  all  its  branches  was 
most  successfully  cultivated.  It  is  related  by  Signor 
Cancellieri  that  Bacon,  when  at  Rome,  presented 
himself  as  a  candidate  to  the  Academy  of  the  Lincei, 
and  was  not  admitted.^  He  remained  on  the  conti- 
nent for  three  years,  until  his  father's  death,  in  1580. 
The  melancholy  event,  which  bereft  him  of  his 
parent,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  was  fatal  to  his  pros- 
pects. His  father  had  intended  to  purchase  an  es- 
tate for  his  youngest  son,  as  he  had  done  for  his 
other  sons;  but  he  dying  before  this  intention  was 

1  Prospetto  delle  Memorie  aneddote  dei  Liiuxi  da  F.  Cancellieri. 
Koma,  1823.  This  fact  is  quoted  by  Monsieur  Cousin,  in  a  note  to 
his  Fragments  de  Philoaophie  Cartisicnne. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.       5 

realized,  the  money  was  equally  divided  between 
all  the  children;  so  that  Francis  inherited  but  one 
fifth  of  that  fortune  intended  for  him  alone.  He 
was  the  only  one  of  the  sons  that  was  left  unprovided 
for.  He  had  now  "to  study  to  live,"  instead  of 
"  living  to  study."  He  wished,  to  use  his  own  lan- 
guage, "to  become  a  true  pioneer  in  that  mine  of 
truth  which  lies  so  deep."  He  applied  to  the  gov- 
ernment for  a  provision  which  his  father's  interest 
would  easily  have  secured  him,  and  by  which  he 
might  dispense  with  a  profession.  The  Queen  must 
have  looked  with  favor  upon  the  son  of  a  minister, 
who  had  served  her  faithfully  for  twenty  long  years, 
and  upon  a  young  man  whom,  when  he  was  a  child, 
she  had  caressed,  she  had  distinguished  by  the  appel- 
lation of  her  "young  Lord  Keeper."  But  Francis 
Bacon  was  abandoned,  and  perhaps  opposed  by  the 
colleague  and  nearest  friend  of  his  father,  the  brother- 
in-law  of  his  mother,  his  maternal  uncle.  Lord  Bur- 
leigh, then  Prime  Minister,  who  feared  for  his  son 
the  rivalry  of  his  all-talented  nephew.  It  is  a  trick 
common  to  envy  and  detraction,  to  convert  a  man's 
very  qualities  into  their  concomitant  defects;  and 
because  Bacon  was  a  great  thinker,  he  was  repre- 
sented as  unfit  for  the  active  duties  of  business,  as 
"  a  man  rather  of  show  than  of  depth,"  as  "  a  specu- 
lative man,  indulging  himself  in  philosophical  rever- 
ies, and  calculated  more  to  perplex  than  to  promote 
public  business."  ^    Thus  was  the  future  ornament 

1  Sir  Robert  Cecil. 


6       NOTICE  OP  FRANCIS  BACON. 

of  his  country  and  of  mankind  sacrificed  to  Robert, 
afterwards  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  of 
whose  history  fame  has  learned  but  little,  save  the 
execution  of  Essex  and  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  the 
name,  and  this  petty  act  of  mean  jealousy  of  his 
father !  In  the  disposal  of  patronage  and  place,  acts 
and  even  motives  of  this  species  are  not  so  unfre- 
quent  as  the  world  would  appear  to  imagine.  In 
all  ages,  it  is  to  be  feared,  many  and  great,  as  in 
Shakspeare's  time,  are, 

the  spurns 
That  patient  merit  of  th'  unworthy  takes. 

It  is,  however,  but  justice  to  the  morals  of  Lord 
Burleigh,  to  add  that  he  was  insensible  to  literary 
merit;  he  thought  a  hundred  pounds  too  great  a 
reward  to  be  given  to  Spenser  for  what  he  termed 
"an  old  song,"  for  so  he  denominated  the  Faery 
Queen. 

Bacon  then  selected  the  law  as  his  profession ; 
and  in  1580  he  was  entered  of  Gray's  Inn;^  he 
resisted  the  temptations  of  his  companions  and 
friends,  (for  his  company  was  much  courted),  and 
diligently  pursued  the  study  he  had  chosen ;  but  he 
did  not  at  this  time  entirely  lose  sight  of  his  philo- 
sophical speculations,  for  he  then  published  his  Tem- 
poris partus  maximus,  or  The  Greatest  Birth  of  Time. 
This  work,  notwithstanding  its  pompous  title,  was 
unnoticed  or  rather  fell  stillborn  from  the  press ;  the 

*  Gray's  Inn  is  one  of  the  four  Inns  or  companies  for  the  study 
of  law. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.       7 

sole  trace  of  it  is  found  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Father 
Fulgentio. 

In  1586,  he  was  called  to  the  bar;  his  practice 
there  appears  to  have  been  limited,  although  not 
without  success;  for  the  Queen  and  the  Court  are 
said  to  have  gone  to  hear  him  when  he  was  engaged 
in  any  celebrated  cause.  He  was,  at  this  period  of 
his  life,  frequently  admitted  to  the  Queen's  presence 
and  conversation.  He  was  appointed  her  Majesty's 
Counsel  Extraordinary,^  but  he  had  no  salary  and 
small  fees. 

In  1592,  his  uncle,  the  Lord  Treasurer,  procured 
for  him  the  reversion  of  the  registrarship  of  the  Star 
Chamber,  worth  sixteen  hundred  pounds  (forty  thou- 
sand francs)  a  year;  but  the  office  did  not  become 
vacant  till  twenty  years  after,  so  that,  as  Bacon 
justly  observes,  "it  might  mend  his  prospects,  but 
did  not  fill  his  barns." 

A  parliament  was  summoned  in  1593,  and  Bacon 
was  returned  to  the  House  of  Commons,  for  the 
County  of  Middlesex  ;  he  distinguished  himself  here 
as  a  speaker.  "The  fear  of  every  man  who  heard 
him,"  says  his  contemporary,  Ben  Jonson,  "  was 
lest  he  should  make  an  end."  He  made,  however, 
on  one  occasion  a  speech  which  much  displeased 
the  Queen  and  Court.     Elizabeth  directed  the  Lord 

1  King's  or  Queen's  Counsel  are  barristers  that  plead  for  the 
government  ;  they  receive  fees  but  no  salary  ;  the  first  were 
appointed  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  Queen's  Counsel  extraordi- 
nary was  a  title  peculiar  to  Bacon,  granted,  as  the  patent  specially 
states,  honoris  caxisa. 


8  NOTICE  OF  FKANCIS  BACON. 

Keeper  to  intimate  to  him  that  he  must  expect 
neither  favor  nor  promotion ;  the  repentant  courtier 
replied  in  writing,  that  "her  Majesty's  favor  was 
dearer  to  him  than  his  life."  ^ 

lu  the  following  year  the  situation  of  Solicitor- 
General  2  became  vacant.  Bacon  ardently  aspired  to 
it.  He  applied  successively  to  Lord  Burleigh,  his 
uncle,  to  Lord  Puckering,  his  father's  successor,  to 
the  Earl  of  Essex,  their  rival,  and  finally  to  the  Queen 
herself,  accompanying  his  letters,  as  was  the  custom 
of  the  times,  with  a  present,  a  jewel.^  But  once 
more  he  saw  mediocrity  preferred,  and  himself  rejected. 
A  Serjeant  Fleming  was  appointed  her  INIajesty's 
Solicitor-General.  Bacon,  overwhelmed  by  this  dis- 
appointment, wished  to  retire  from  public  life,  and  to 
reside  abroad.  "  I  hoped,"  said  he  in  a  letter  to  Sir 
Robert  Cecil,  "  her  Majesty  would  not  be  offended 
that,  not  able  to  endure  the  sun,  I  fled  into  the  shade." 

The  Earl  of  Essex,  whose  mind,  says  Mr.  Ma- 
caulay,  "  naturally  disposed  to  admiration  of  all  that 

1  Letter  to  Lord  Burleigh. 

2  The  Solicitor-General  is  a  law-officer  inferior  in  rank  to  the 
Attorney-General,  with  whom  he  is  associated  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  law  business  of  the  crown.  He  pleads  also  for  pri- 
vate individuals,  but  not  against  government.  He  has  a  suiall 
salary,  but  very  considerable  fees.  The  salary  in  Bacon's  time 
was  but  seventy  pounds. 

'  Bacon  was,  like  other  courtiers,  in  the  habit  of  presenting 
the  Queen  with  a  New  Year's  gift.  On  one  occasion,  it  was  a 
white  satin  petticoat  embroidered  with  snakes  and  fniitage,  as 
emblems  of  wisdom  and  beauty.  The  donors  varied  in  rank  from 
the  Lord  Keeper  down  to  the  dust-man. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  9 

is  great  and  beautiful,  was  fascinated  by  the  genius 
and  the  accomplishments  of  Bacon,"  ^  had  exerted 
every  effort  in  Bacon's  behalf;  to  use  his  own  lan- 
guage, he  "spent  all  his  power,  might,  authority, 
and  amity ; "  he  now  sought  to  indemnify  him,  and, 
with  royal  munificence,  presented  him  with  an  estate 
of  the  value  of  nearly  two  thousand  pounds,  a  sum 
worth  perhaps  four  or  five  times  the  amount  in  the 
money  of  our  days.  If  anything  could  enhance  the 
benefaction,  it  was  the  delicacy  with  which  it  was 
conferred,  or,  as  Bacon  himself  expresses  it,  "with 
so  kind  and  noble  circumstances  as  the  manner  was 
worth  more  than  the  matter." 

Bacon  published  his  Essays  in  1597 ;  he  considered 
them  but  as  the  "recreations  of  his  other  studies." 
The  idea  of  them  was  probably  first  suggested  by 
Montaigne's  Essais,  but  there  is  little  resemblance 
between  the  two  works  beyond  the  titles.  The 
first  edition  contained  but  ten  Essays,  which  were 
shorter  than  they  now  are.  The  work  was  reprinted 
in  1598,  with  little  or  no  variation;  again  in  1606; 
and  in  1612  there  was  a  fourth  edition,  etc.  How- 
ever, he  afterwards,  he  says,  "enlarged  it  both  in 
number  and  weight;"  but  it  did  not  assume  its 
present  form  until  the  ninth  edition,  in  1625,  that 
is,  twenty-eight  years  after  its  first  publication,  and 
one  year  before  the  death  of  the  author.  It  ap- 
peared under  the  new  title  of  The  Essaies  or  Covn- 
sels   Oivill  and  Morall,  of  Francis  Lo,    Vervlam, 

1  Essays. 


iO  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

Viscovnt  St.  Alban.  Newly  enlarged.  This  is  not 
followed  by  the  Religious  Meditations,  Places  of 
Perswasion  and  Disswasion,  seene  and  allowed.  The 
Essays  were  soon  translated  into  Italian  with  the  title 
of  Saggi  Morali  del  Signore  Francesco  Bacons,  Cav- 
agliero  Inglese,  Gran  Cancelliero  d' Inghilterra. 
This  translation  was  dedicated  to  Cosmo  de  Medici, 
Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany ;  and  was  reprinted  in  Lon- 
don in  1618.  Of  the  three  Essays  added  after 
Bacon's  decease,  two  of  them,  Of  a  King  and  Of 
Death,  are  not  genuine ;  the  Fragment  of  an  Essay 
on  Fame  alone  is  Bacon's. 

In  this  same  year  (1597)  he  again  took  his  seat 
in  Parliament.  He  soon  made  ample  amends  for 
his  opposition  speech  in  the  previous  session  ;  but 
this  time  he  gained  the  favor  of  the  Court  with- 
out forfeiting  his  popularity  in  the  House  of 
Commons. 

He  now  thought  of  strengthening  his  interest,  or 
increasing  his  fortune,  by  a  matrimonial  connection ; 
and  he  sought  the  hand  of  a  rich  widow.  Lady 
Hatton,  his  second  cousin ;  but  here  he  was  again 
doomed  to  disappointment;  a  preference  was  given 
to  his  old  rival,  the  Attorney-General,  Sir  Edward 
Coke,  notwithstanding  the  "seven  objections  to 
him  —  his  six  children  and  himself."  But  although 
Bacon  was  perhaps  unaware  of  it,  the  rejection  of 
his  suit  was  one  of  the  happiest  events  of  his  life ; 
for  the  eccentric  manners  and  violent  temper  of  the 
lady  rendered  her  a  torment  to  all  around  her,  and 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  11 

probably  most  of  all  to  her  husband.  In  reality, 
as  has  been  wittily  observed,  the  lady  was  doubly 
kind  to  him;  "she  rejected  him,  and  she  accepted 
his  enemy." 

Another  mortification  awaited  him  at  this  period. 
A  relentless  creditor,  a  usurer,  had  him  arrested  for 
a  debt  of  three  hundred  pounds,  and  he  was  con- 
veyed to  a  spunging-house,  where  he  was  confined 
for  a  few  days,  until  arrangements  could  be  made 
to  satisfy  the  claim  or  the  claimant. 

We  now  arrive  at  a  painfully  sad  point  in  the  life 
of  Bacon ;  a  dark  foul  spot,  which  should  be  hidden 
forever,  did  not  history,  like  the  magistrate  of  Egypt 
that  interrogated  the  dead,  demand  that  the  truth, 
the  whole  truth,  should  be  told. 

We  have  seen  that  between  Bacon  and  the  Earl 
of  Essex,  all  was  disinterested  affection  on  the  part 
of  the  latter;  the  Earl  employed  his  good  offices 
for  him,  exerted  heart  and  soul  to  insure  his  success 
as  Solicitor-General,  and,  on  Bacon's  failure,  con- 
ferred on  him  a  princely  favor,  a  gift  of  no  ordinary 
value. 

When  Essex's  fortunes  declined,  and  the  Earl  fell 
into  disgrace.  Bacon  endeavored  to  mediate  between 
the  Queen  and  her  favorite.  The  case  became  hope- 
less. Essex  left  his  command  in  Ireland  without 
leave,  was  ordered  in  confinement,  and  after  a  long 
imprisonment  and  trial  before  the  Privy  Council,  he 
was  liberated.  Irritated  by  the  refusal  of  a  favor 
he  solicited,  he  was  betrayed  into  reflections  on  the 


12  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

Queen's  age  and  person,  which  were  never  to  be 
forgiven,  and  he  engaged  in  a  conspiracy  to  seize 
on  the  Queen,  and  to  settle  a  new  plan  of  govern- 
ment. On  the  failure  of  this  attempt,  he  was  ar- 
rested, committed  to  the  Tower,  and  brought  to  trial 
for  high  treason  before  the  House  of  Peers.  During 
his  long  captivity,  who  does  not  expect  to  see  Bacon, 
his  friend,  a  frequent  visitor  in  his  cell?  Before 
the  two  tribunals,  can  we  fail  to  meet  Bacon,  his 
counsel,  at  his  side?  We  trace  Bacon  at  Court, 
where,  he  assures  us,  after  Elizabeth's  death,  that 
he  endeavored  to  appease  and  reconcile  the  Queen ; 
but  the  place  was  too  distant  from  the  prison :  for 
he  never  visited  there  his  fallen  friend. 

At  the  first  trial,  Bacon  did  indeed  make  his  ap- 
pearance, but  as  "  her  Majesty's  Counsel  extraordi- 
nary," not  for  the  defence,  but  for  the  prosecution 
of  the  prisoner.  But  he  may  be  expected  at  least 
to  have  treated  him  leniently?  He  admits  he  did 
not,  on  account,  as  he  tells  us,  of  the  "superior 
duty  he  owed  to  the  Queen's  fame  and  honor  in  a 
public  proceeding."  But  hitherto,  the  Earl's  liberty 
alone  had  been  endangered ;  now,  his  life  is  at  stake. 
Do  not  the  manifold  favors,  the  munificent  benefac- 
tions all  arise  in  the  generous  mind  of  Bacon  ?  Does 
he  not  waive  all  thought  of  interest  and  promotion 
and  worldly  honor  to  devote  himself  wholly  to  the 
sacred  task  of  saving  his  patron,  benefactor,  and 
friend?  Her  Majesty's  Counsel  extraordinary  ap- 
peared in  the  place  of  the  Solicitor-General,  to  reply 


NOTICE  OF  FKANCIS  BACON.  13 

to  Essex's  defence;  he  compared  the  accused  first 
to  Cain,  then  to  Pisistratus.  The  Earl  made  a 
pathetic  appeal  to  his  judges;  Bacon  showed  he 
had  not  answered  his  objections,  and  compared  him 
to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  the  most  odious  comparison 
he  could  have  instituted.  Essex  was  condemned ; 
the  Queen  wavered  in  her  resolution  to  execute 
him;  his  friend's  intercession  might  perhaps  have 
been  able  to  save  Essex  from  an  ignominious  death. 
Did  Bacon,  in  his  turn,  "  spend  all  his  power,  might, 
and  amity?"  The  Queen's  Counsel  extraordinary 
might  have  offended  his  sovereign  by  his  importu- 
nity, and  have  been  forgotten  in  the  impending 
vacancy  of  the  office  of  Solicitor- General !  Essex 
died  on  the  scaflfold.  But  the  execution  rendered 
the  Queen  unpopular,  and  she  was  received  with 
mournful  silence  when  she  appeared  in  public.  She 
ordered  a  pamphlet  to  be  written  to  justify  the  exe- 
cution ;  she  made  choice  of  Bacon  as  the  writer ; 
the  courtier  did  not  decline  the  task,  but  published 
A  Declaration  of  the  Practices  and  Treasons  at- 
tempted and  committed  by  Robert,  late  Earle  of  Es- 
sex and  his  Complices,  against  her  Maiestie  and  her 
Kingdoms.  This  faithless  friend,  to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  Macaulay,  "  exerted  his  professional  talents 
to  shed  the  Earl's  blood,  and  his  literary  talents  to 
blacken  the  Earl's  memory." 

The  memory  of  Essex  suffered  but  little  from  the 
attack  of  the  pamphlet ;  the  base  pamphleteer's  mem- 
ory is  blackened  forever,  and  to  his  fair  name  of  "the 


14  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

wisest,  brightest,"  has  been  appended  the  "  meanest 
of  mankind."  But  let  us  cast  a  pall  over  this  act, 
this  moral  murder,  perpetrated  by  the  now  degraded 
orator,  degraded  philosopher,  the  now  most  degraded 
of  men. 

Elizabeth  died  in  1601 ;  and  before  the  arrival 
of  James,  in  England,  Bacon  wrote  him  a  pedantic 
letter,  probably  to  gratify  the  taste  of  the  pedant 
king;  but  he  did  not  forget  in  it,  "his  late  dear 
sovereign  Mistress  —  a  princess  happy  in  all  things, 
but  most  happy —  in  such  a  successor." 

Bacon  solicited  the  honor  of  knighthood,  a  dis- 
tinction much  lavished  at  this  period.  At  the  King's 
coronation,  he  knelt  down  in  company  with  above 
three  hundred  gentlemen;  but  "he  rose  Sir  Fran- 
cis." He  sought  the  hand  of  a  rich  alderman's 
daughter,  Miss  Bamham,  who  consented  to  become 
Lady  Bacon. 

The  Earl  of  Southampton,  Shakspeare's  generous 
patron  and  friend,  who  had  been  convicted  of  high 
treason  in  the  late  reign,  now  received  the  King's 
pardon.  This  called  to  all  men's  minds  the  fate  of 
the  unhappy  Earl  of  Essex,  and  of  his  odiously  un- 
grateful accuser;  the  latter  unadvisedly  published 
the  Sir  Francis  Bacon,  his  Apologie  in  certaine 
imputations  concerning  the  late  Earle  of  Essex;  a 
defence  which,  in  the  estimation  of  one  of  his  bio- 
graphers, Lord  Campbell,  has  injured  him  more  with 
posterity  than  all  the  attacks  of  his  enemies. 

Id  the  new  Parliament,  he  represented  the  borough 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  15 

of  Ipswich ;  he  spoke  frequently,  and  obtained  the 
good  graces  of  the  King  by  the  support  he  gave 
to  James's  favorite  plan  of  a  union  of  England  and 
Scotland;  a  measure  by  no  means  palatable  to  the 
King's  new  subjects. 

The  object  of  all  his  hopes,  the  price,  perhaps, 
of  his  conduct  to  Essex,  seemed  in  1606  to  be  within 
his  reach  ;  but  he  was  once  more  to  be  disappointed. 
His  old  enemy,  Sir  Edward  Coke,  prevented  the 
vacancy.  The  following  year,  however,  after  long 
and  humiliating  solicitation,  he  attained  the  office  to 
which  he  had  so  long  aspired,  and  was  appointed 
Solicitor-General  to  the  Crown. 

Official  advancement  was  now  the  object  nearest 
his  heart,  and  he  longed  to  be  Attorney-General.^ 

In  1613,  by  a  master  stroke  of  policy,  he  created 
a  vacancy  for  himself  as  Attorney-General,  and  man- 
aged at  the  same  time  to  disserve  his  old  enemy. 
Coke,  by  getting  him  preferred  in  rank,  but  at  the 
expense  of  considerable  pecuniary  loss. 

After  his  new  appointment,  he  was  reelected  to 
his  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons;  he  had  gained 

^  The  Attorney-General  is  the  public  prosecutor  on  behalf  of  the 
Crown,  where  the  state  is  actually  and  not  nominally  the  prose- 
cutor. He  pleads  also  as  a  barrister  in  private  causes,  provided 
they  are  not  against  the  government.  As  he  receives  a  fee  for 
every  case  in  which  the  government  is  concerned,  his  emoluments 
are  considerable ;  but  he  has  no  salary.  His  official  position 
secures  to  him  the  best  practice  at  the  bar.  The  salary  was,  in 
Bacon's  time,  but  811.  6s.  8d.  per  annum;  but  the  situation  yielded 
him  six  thousand  pounds  yearly. 


16  NOTICE  OF  FKANCIS  BACON. 

BO  much  popularity  there,  that  the  House  admitted 
him,  although  it  resolved  to  exclude  future  Attor- 
neys-General;  a  resolution  rescinded  by  later  Par- 
liaments. 

The  Attorney-General,  as  may  be  supposed,  did 
not  lack  zeal  in  his  master's  service  and  for  his 
master's  prerogative.  One  case,  in  particular,  was 
atrocious.  An  aged  clergyman,  named  Peacham, 
was  prosecuted  for  high  treason  for  a  sermon  which 
he  had  neither  preached  nor  published ;  the  unfortu- 
nate old  man  was  apprehended,  put  to  the  torture 
in  presence  of  the  Attorney-General,  and  as  the  latter 
himself  tells  us,  was  examined  "before  torture,  be- 
tween torture,  and  after  torture,"  although  Bacon 
must  have  been  fully  aware  that  the  laws  of  Eng- 
land did  not  sanction  torture  to  extort  confession. 
Bacon  tampered  with  the  judges,  and  obtained  a 
conviction ;  but  the  government  durst  not  carry  the 
sentence  into  execution.  Peacham  languished  in 
prison  till  the  ensuing  year,  when  Pro\ddence  res- 
cued him  from  the  hands  of  human  justice. 

In  1616,  Bacon  was  offered  the  formal  promise 
of  the  Chancellorship,  or  an  actual  appointment  as 
Privy  Councillor ;  he  was  too  prudent  not  to  prefer 
an  appointment  to  a  promise,  and  he  was  accord- 
ingly nominated  to  the  functions  of  member  of  the 
Privy  Council.  His  present  leisure  enabled  him  to 
prosecute  vigorously  his  Novum  Organum,  but  he 
turned  aside  to  occupy  himself  with  a  proposition 
for  the  amendment  of  the  laws  of  England,  on  which 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  17 

Lord  Campbell,  assuredly  the  most  competent  of 
judges,  passes  a  high  encomium. 

At  length,  in  1617,  Sir  Francis  Bacon  attained 
the  end  of  the  ambition  of  his  life,  he  became  Lord 
Keeper  of  the  Seals,  with  the  functions,  though  not 
the  title,  of  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England.  His 
promotion  to  this  dignity  gave  general  satisfaction ; 
his  own  university,  Cambridge,  congi'atulated  him; 
Oxford  imitated  the  example ;  the  world  expected 
a  perfect  judge,  formed  from  his  own  model  in  his 
Essay  of  Judicature.  He  took  his  seat  in  the  Court 
of  Chancery  with  the  utmost  pomp  and  parade. 

The  Lord  Keeper  now  endeavored  to  "feed  fat 
the  ancient  grudge"  he  bore  Coke.  He  deprived 
him  of  the  office  of  Chief  Justice,  and  erased  his 
name  from  the  list  of  privy  councillors.  Coke  im- 
agined a  plan  of  raising  his  falling  fortunes;  he 
projected  a  marriage  between  his  daughter  by  his 
second  wife,  a  very  rich  heiress,  and  Sir  John  Vil- 
liers,  the  brother  of  Buckingham,  the  King's  favorite. 
Bacon  was  alarmed,  wrote  to  the  King,  and  used 
expressions  of  disparagement  towards  the  favorite, 
his  new  patron,  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  the 
Seals  he  held.  The  King  and  his  minion  were 
equally  indignant ;  and  they  did  not  conceal  from 
him  their  resentment.  On  the  return  of  the  court. 
Bacon  hastened  to  the  residence  of  Buckingham ; 
being  denied  admittance,  he  waited  two  whole  days 
in  the  ante-chamber  with  the  Great  Seal  of  England 
in  his  hand.     When  at  length  he  obtained  access, 

2 


18  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

the  Lord  Keeper  threw  himself  and  the  Great  Seal 
on  the  ground,  kissed  the  favorite's  feet,  and  vowed 
never  to  rise  till  he  was  forgiven !  It  must  after 
this  have  been  difficult  indeed  for  him  to  rise  again 
in  the  world's  esteem  or  his  own. 

Bacon  was  made  to  purchase  at  a  dear  price  his 
reinstatement  in  the  good  graces  of  Buckingham. 
The  favorite  constantly  wrote  to  the  judge  in  behalf 
of  one  of  the  parties,  and  in  the  end,  says  Lord 
Campbell,  intimated  that  he  was  to  dictate  the  de- 
cree. Nor  did  Bacon  once  remonstrate  against  this 
unwarrantable  interference  on  the  part  of  the  man 
to  whom  he  had  himself  recommended  "  by  no  means 
to  interpose  himself,  either  by  word  or  letter  in  any 
cause  depending  on  any  court  of  justice."  The  Lord 
Keeper  received  soon  after,  in  1618,  the  reward  of 
his  "many  faithful  sei-vices"  by  the  higher  title  of 
Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England,  and  by  the  peer- 
age with  the  name  of  Baron  of  Verulam. 

The  new  Minister  of  Justice  lent  himself  with  his 
wonted  complaisance  to  a  most  outrageous  act  of 
injustice,  which  Macaulay  stigmatizes  as  a  "  das- 
tardly murder,"  that  of  the  execution  of  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  under  a  sentence  pronounced  sixteen  years 
before ;  Sir  Walter  having  been  in  the  interval  in- 
vested with  the  high  command  of  Admiral  of  the 
fleet.  Such  an  act  it  was  the  imperative  duty  of 
the  first  magistrate  of  the  realm  not  to  promote,  but 
to  resist  to  the  full  extent  of  his  power;  and  the 
Chancellor  alone  could  issue  the  warrant  for  the 
execution ! 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  19 

In  1620,  he  published  what  is  usually  considered 
his  greatest  work,  his  Novum  Organum  (New  In- 
strument or  Method),  which  forms  the  second  part 
of  the  Instauratio  Magna  (Great  Restoration  of  the 
Sciences).  This  work  had  occupied  Bacon's  leisure 
for  nearly  thirty  years.  Such  was  the  care  he  be- 
stowed on  it,  that  Rawley,  his  chaplain  and  biogi-a- 
pher,  states  that  he  had  seen  about  twelve  autograph 
copies  of  it,  corrected  and  improved  mitil  it  assumed 
the  shape  in  which  it  appeared.  Previous  to  the 
publication  of  the  Novum  Organum,  says  the  illus- 
trious Sir  John  Herschel,  "natural  philosophy,  in 
any  legitimate  and  extensive  sense  of  the  word,  could 
hardly  be  said  to  exist."  ^ 

It  cannot  be  expected  that  a  work  destined  com- 
pletely to  change  the  state  of  science,  we  had  almost 
said  of  nature,  should  not  be  assailed  by  that  preju- 
dice which  is  ever  ready  to  raise  its  loud  but  unmean- 
ing voice  against  whatever  is  new,  how  great  or  good 
soever  it  may  be.  Bacon's  doctrine  was  accused  of 
being  calculated  to  produce  "  dangerous  revolutions," 
to  "subvert  governments  and  the  authority  of  re- 
ligion." Some  called  on  the  present  age  and  pos- 
terity to  rise  high  in  their  resentment  against  "the 
Bacon-faced  generation,"  for  so  were  the  experiment- 
alists termed.  The  old  cry  of  irreligion,  nay,  even 
of  atheism,  was  raised  against  the  man  who  had 
said :  "  I  would  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in  the 
Legend,  and  the  Talmud,  and  the  Alcoran,  than  that 

1  Preliminary  Discourse  on  the  Study  of  Natural  Philosophy. 


20  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

this  universal  frame  is  without  a  mind."  ^  But  Bacon 
had  to  encounter  the  prejudices  even  of  the  learned. 
CufFe,  the  Earl  of  Essex's  secretary,  a  man  celebrated 
for  his  attainments,  said  of  the  Instauratio  Magna, 
"  a  fool  could  not  have  written  such  a  book,  and  a 
wise  man  would  not."  King  James  said,  it  was 
"like  the  peace  of  God,  that  surpasseth  all  under- 
standing." And  even  Harvey,  the  discoverer  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  said  to  Aubrey :  "  Bacon  is 
no  great  philosopher;  he  writes  philosophy  like  a 
Lord  Chancellor."  Rawley,  his  secretary  and  his 
biographer,  laments,  some  years  after  his  friend's 
death,  that  "  his  fame  is  greater  and  sounds  louder 
in  foreign  parts  abroad  than  at  home  in  his  own 
nation ;  thereby  verifying  that  divine  sentence :  A 
prophet  is  not  without  honor,  save  in  his  own  coun- 
try and  in  his  own  house."  Bacon  was  for  some 
time  without  honor  "  in  his  own  country  and  in  his 
own  house."  But  truth  on  this,  as  on  all  other 
occasions,  triumphs  in  the  end.  Bacon's  assailants 
are  forgotten ;  Bacon  will  be  remembered  with  grati- 
tude and  veneration  forever. 

He  was  again,  in  1621,  promoted  in  the  peerage 
to  be  Viscount  Saint-Albans ;  his  patent  particularly 
celebrating  his  "integrity  in  the  administration  of 
justice." 

In  this  same  year  the  Parliament  assembled.  The 
House  of  Commons  first  voted  the  subsidies  de- 
manded by  the  Crown,  and  next  proceeded,  as  was 

*  Essay  xvi. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  21 

usual  in  those  times,  to  the  redress  of  grievances. 
A  committee  of  the  House  was  appointed  to  inquire 
into  "the  abuses  of  Courts  of  Justice."  A  report 
of  this  committee  charged  the  Lord  Chancellor  with 
corruption,  and  specified  two  cases ;  in  the  first  of 
which  Aubrey,  a  suitor  in  his  court,  stated  that  he 
had  presented  the  Lord  Chancellor  with  a  hundred 
pounds;  and  Egerton,  another  suitor  in  his  court, 
with  four  hundred  pounds  in  addition  to  a  former 
piece  of  plate  of  the  value  of  fifty  pounds ;  in  both 
cases  decisions  had  been  given  against  the  parties 
whose  presents  had  been  received.  (Lord  Campbell 
asserts  that  in  the  case  of  Egerton  both  parties  had 
made  the  Chancellor  presents.)^  His  enemies,  it  is 
said,  estimated  his  illicit  gains  at  a  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds ;  a  statement  which,  it  is  more  than 
probable,  is  greatly  exaggerated.^  "I  never  had," 
said  Bacon  in  his  defence,  "  bribe  or  reward  in  my 
eye  or  thought  when  I  pronounced  sentence  or 
order."  This  is  an  acknowledgment  of  the  fact, 
and  perhaps  an  aggravation  of  the  offence.      He 

1  Decisions  being  given  against  the  parties  is  no  proof  of  un- 
corraptness  ;  it  is  always  the  party  who  loses  his  suit  that  com- 
plains ;  the  gainer  receives  the  price  of  his  bribe,  and  is  silent. 

2  The  exactions  of  his  servants  appear  to  have  been  very  great ; 
their  indulgence  in  every  kind  of  extravagance,  and  the  lavish 
profuseness  of  his  own  expenses,  were  the  principal  causes  of  his 
ruin.  Mallet  relates  that  one  day,  during  the  investigation  into 
his  conduct,  the  Chancellor  passed  through  a  room  where  several 
of  his  servants  were  sitting  ;  as  they  arose  from  their  seats  to  greet 
him,  "Sit  down,  my  masters,"  exclaimed  he,  "  your  rise  hath  been 
my  fall." 


22  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

then  addressed  "  an  humble  submission "  to  the 
House,  a  kind  of  general  admission,  in  which  he 
invoked  as  a  plea  of  excuse  vitia  temporis. 

How  widely  different  from  this  is  his  own  lan- 
guage !  It  is  fair  justice  to  appeal  from  the  judge 
to  the  tribunal  of  the  philosopher  and  moralist ;  it 
is  appealing  from  Philip  drunk  to  Philip  sober; 
unhappily  it  is  likewise 

to  have  the  engineer 
Hoist  with  his  own  petar. 

He  says,  in  his  Essay  of  Great  Place:  "For  cor- 
ruption :  do  not  only  bind  thine  own  hands,  or  thy 
servant's  hands  from  taking,  but  bind  the  hands  of 
suitors  from  offering.  For  integrity  used  doth  the 
one ;  but  integrity  professed,  and  with  a  manifest 
detestation  of  bribery,  doth  the  other;  and  avoid 
not  only  the  fault,  but  the  suspicion."  ^  He  says 
again,  in  the  same  Essay:  "Set  it  down  to  thyself, 
as  well  to  create  good  precedents  as  to  follow 
them." 

But  the  allegation  that  it  was  a  custom  of  the 
times  requires  examination.  It  was  a  custom  of 
the  times  in  reality  to  make  presents  to  superiors. 
Queen  Elizabeth  received  them  as  New  Year's  gifts 
from  functionaries  of  all  ranks,  fi'om  her  prime  min- 
ister down  to  Charles  Smith,  the  dust-man  (see  note 
1,  page  7),  and  this  custom  probably  continued  under 
her  successor,  and  may  have  been  applied  to  other 
high  functionaries,  but  it  does  not  appear  to  have 

1  Essay  xL 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  23 

been  in  legitimate  use  in  the  courts  of  judicature. 
Coke,  himself  Chief  Justice,  was  Bacon's  principal 
accuser;  and,  although  an  enemy,  he  has  been  said 
to  have  conducted  himself  with  moderation  and  pro- 
priety on  this  occasion  only.  Lord  Campbell,  Chief 
Justice  of  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench,  and  author 
of  the  Lives  of  the  Chancellors  and  Chief  Justices  of 
England^  repels  the  plea,  as  inadmissible.  It  cannot 
be  denied  that  if  Bacon  extended  the  practice  to  the 
courts  of  justice,  he  has  heaped  coals  of  fire  on 
his  head;  for  applied  to  his  own  case  personally  it 
would  be  sufficiently  odious ;  but  what  odium  would 
not  that  man  deserve  who  should  systematize,  nay, 
legitimize  a  practice  that  must  inevitably  poison  the 
stream  of  justice  at  its  fountain-head !  What  execra^ 
tion  could  be  too  great,  if  that  man  were  the  most 
intelligent,  the  wisest  of  his  century,  one  of  the  most 
dignified  in  rank  in  the  land,  clad  in  spotless  ermine, 
the  emblem  of  purity,  in  short,  the  Minister  of  Justice  ! 
The  Lords  resolved  that  Bacon  should  be  called 
upon  to  put  in  a  particular  answer  to  each  of  the 
special  charges  preferred  against  him.  The  formal 
articles  with  proofs  in  support  were  communicated 
to  him.  The  House  received  the  "  confession  and 
humble  submission  of  me,  the  Lord  Chancellor." 
In  this  document,  Bacon  acknowledges  himself  to 
be  guilty  of  corruption ;  and  in  reply  to  each  special 
charge  admits  in  evciy  instance  the  receipt  of  money 
or  valuable  things  from  the  suitors  in  his  court ;  but 
alleging  in  some  cases  that  it  was  after  judgment, 


24  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

or  as  New  Year's  gifts,  a  custom  of  the  times,  or  for 
prior  services.  A  committee  of  nine  temporal  and 
three  spiritual  lords  was  appointed  to  ascertain 
whethOT  it  was  he  who  had  subscribed  this  docu- 
ment. The  committee  repaired  to  his  residence, 
were  received  in  the  hall  where  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  sit  as  judge,  and  merely  asked  him  if  the 
signature  affixed  to  the  paper  they  exhibited  to  him 
was  his.  He  passionately  exclaimed:  "My  lords, 
it  is  my  act,  my  hand,  my  heart.  I  beseech  your 
lordships  to  be  merciful  to  a  broken  reed."  The 
committee  withdrew,  overwhelmed  with  grief  at  the 
sight  of  such  greatness  so  fallen. 

Four  commissioners  dispatched  by  the  King  de- 
manded the  Great  Seal  of  the  Chancellor,  confined 
to  his  bed  by  sickness  and  sorrow  and  want  of  sus- 
tenance; for  he  refused  to  take  any  food.  He  hid 
his  face  in  his  hand,  and  delivered  up  that  Great 
Seal  for  the  attainment  of  which  he  "had  sullied 
his  integrity,  had  resigned  his  independence,  had 
violated  the  most  sacred  obligations  of  friendship 
and  gratitude,  had  flattered  the  worthless,  had  per- 
secuted the  innocent,  had  tampered  with  judges, 
had  tortured  prisoners,  had  plundered  suitors,  had 
wasted  on  paltry  intrigues  all  the  powers  of  the 
most  exquisitely  constructed  intellect  that  has  ever 
been  bestowed  on  any  of  the  children  of  men."  ^ 

All  this  he  did  to  be  Lord  High  Chancellor  of 
England ;  and,  had  he  not  been  the  unworthy  min- 

1  Macaulay'a  Essays. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  25 

ister  of  James,  he  might  have  been,  to  use  the 
beautiful  language  of  Hallam,  "the  high-priest  of 
nature." 

On  the  3d  of  May,  he  was  unanimously  declared 
to  be  guilty,  and  he  was  sentenced  to  a  fine  of  forty 
thousand  pounds,  to  be  imprisoned  in  the  Tower 
during  the  King's  pleasure,  to  be  incapable  of  hold- 
ing any  public  oflBce,  and  of  sitting  in  Parliament 
or  of  coming  within  the  verge  of  the  court.^  Such 
was  the  sentence  pronounced  on  the  man  whom 
three  months  before  the  King  delighted  to  honor  for 
"  his  integrity  in  the  administration  of  justice." 

The  fatal  verdict  affected  his  health  so  materially 
that  the  judgment  could  not  receive  immediate  exe- 
cution; he  could  not  be  conveyed  to  the  Tower 
until  the  31st  of  May;  the  following  day  he  was 
liberated.  He  repaired  to  tlie  house  of  Sir  John 
Vaughan,  who  held  a  situation  in  the  prince's  house- 
hold.^ He  wished  to  retire  to  his  own  residence  at 
York  House;  but  this  was  refused.  He  was  or- 
dered to  proceed  to  his  seat  at  Gorhambury,  whence 
he  was  not  to  remove,  and  where  he  remained,  though 
very  reluctantly,  till  the  ensuing  spring. 

The  heavy  fine  was  remitted.     But  as  he  had 

^  He  was  not,  as  has  been  erroneously  supposed,  stripped  of  hia 
titles  of  nobility  ;  this  was  proposed  ;  but  it  was  negatived  by  the 
majority  formed  by  means  of  the  bishops. 

*  The  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards  Charles  the  First,  was  before 
lie  ascended  the  throne  the  patron  of  Bacon,  who  said  of  him  in 
his  will,  "my  most  gracious  sovereign,  who  ever  when  he  was pi-ince 
was  my  patron." 


26  NOTICE  OF  FKANCIS  BACON. 

lived  in  great  pomp,  he  had  economized  naught  from 
his  legitimate  or  ill-gotten  gains.  As  he  was  now 
insolvent,  a  pension  of  twelve  hundred  pounds  a  year 
was  bestowed  on  him;  from  his  estate  and  other 
revenues  he  derived  thirteen  hundred  pounds  per 
annum  more.  On  the  l/th  of  October,  his  remain- 
ing penalties  were  remitted.  It  cannot  but  strike 
the  reader  as  a  most  remarkable  circumstance  that, 
within  eighteen  months  of  the  condemnation,  all  the 
penalties  were  successively  remitted.  Would  this 
induce  the  belief  that  he  was  but  the  scape-goat  of 
the  court,  that  the  condemnation  was  purely  polit- 
ical ?  It  is,  we  believe,  to  be  explained  ostensibly 
by  the  advanced  age  of  Bacon,  but  really  by  the 
circumstance  that  the  King's  favorite,  Buckingham, 
was  an  accomplice. 

Bacon  discovered,  alas  !  when  it  was  too  late,  that 
the  talent  God  had  given  him  he  had  "  misspent  in 
things  for  which  he  was  least  fit ; "  or  as  Thomson 
has  beautifully  expressed  it :  ^  — 

Hapless  in  his  choice, 
Unfit  to  stand  the  civil  stonn  of  state, 
And  through  the  smooth  barbarity  of  courts. 
With  firm,  but  pliant  virtue,  forward  still 
To  urge  his  course  ;  him  for  the  studious  shade 
Kind  Nature  form'd  ;  deep,  comprehensive,  clear, 
Exact,  and  elegant ;  in  one  rich  soul, 
Plato,  the  Stagyrite  and  Tully  join'd. 
The  gi'eat  deliverer  he  ! 

It  is  gratifying  to  turn  from  the  melancholy  scenes 
exhibited  by  the  political  life  of  Bacon,  to  behold  him 

1  The  Seasons. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  27 

in  his  study  in  the  deep  search  of  truth ;  no  contrast 
is  more  striking  than  that  between  the  chancellor 
and  the  philosopher,  or,  as  Macaulay  has  well  termed 
it,  "  Bacon  seeking  for  truth,  and  Bacon  seeking  for 
the  Seals  —  Bacon  in  speculation,  and  Bacon  in  ac- 
tion." From  amidst  douds  and  darkness  we  emerge 
into  the  full  blaze  and  splendor  of  midday  light. 

We  now  find  Bacon  wholly  devoting  himself  to 
the  pursuits  for  which  nature  adapted  him,  and  from 
which  no  extent  of  occupation  could  entirely  detach 
him.  The  author  redeemed  the  man;  in  the  phi- 
losopher and  the  poet  there  was  no  weakness,  no 
corruption. 

Nothing  is  here  for  tears  ;  nothing  to  wail 

Or  knock  the  breast ;  no  weakness,  no  contempt, 

Dispraise  or  blame,  nothing  but  well  and  fair. 

Here  the  writer  yielded  not  to  vitia  temporis ; 
but  combated  them  with  might  and  main,  with  heart 
and  soul. 

In  1623,  he  published  the  Life  of  Henry  VII. 
In  a  letter  addressed  to  the  Queen  of  Bohemia  with 
a  copy,  he  says  pathetically:  "'Time  was  I  had 
honor  without  leisure,  and  now  I  have  leisure  with- 
out honor."  But  his  honor  without  leisure  had 
precipitated  him  into  "  bottomless  perdition ; "  his 
leisure  without  honor  retrieved  his  name,  and  raised 
him  again  to  an  unattainable  height. 

In  the  following  year,  he  printed  his  Latin  tranS' 
lation  of  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  under  the 
title  of  De  Dignitate  et  Augmentis  Scientiarum, 


2g  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

This  was  not,  however,  a  mere  translation ;  for 
he  made  in  it  omissions  and  alterations ;  and  ap- 
pears to  have  added  about  one  third  new  matter; 
in  short,  he  remodelled  it.  His  work,  replete  with 
poetry  and  beautiful  imagery,  was  received  with 
applause  throughout  Europe.  It  was  reprinted  in 
France  in  1624,  one  year  after  its  appearance  in 
England.  It  was  immediately  translated  into  French 
and  Italian,  and  was  published  in  Holland,  the 
great  book-mart  of  that  time,  in  1646,  1650,  and 
1662. 

In  1624,  he  solicited  of  the  King  a  remission  of 
the  sentence,  to  the  end,  says  he,  "  that  blot  of  igno- 
miny may  be  removed  from  me  and  from  my  mem- 
ory with  posterity."  The  King  granted  him  a 
full  pardon.  But  he  never  more  took  his  seat  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  When  the  new  Parliament 
met,  after  the  accession  of  Charles  the  First,  age, 
infirmity,  and  tardy  wisdom  had  extinguished  the 
ambition  of  Baron  Verulam,  Viscount  St.  Albans. 
When  the  writ  of  summons  to  the  Parliament  reached 
him,  he  exclaimed:  "I  have  done  with  such  vani- 
ties!" 

But  the  philosopher  pursued  his  labor  of  love. 
He  published  new  editions  of  his  writings,  and  trans- 
lated them  into  Latin,  from  the  mistaken  notion  that 
in  that  language  alone  could  they  be  rescued  from 
oblivion.  His  crabbed  latinity  is  now  read  but  by 
few,  or  even  may  be  said  to  be  nearly  forgotten ; 
while  his  noble,  majestic  English  is  read  over  the 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  29 

whole  British  empire,  on  which  the  sun  never  sets, 
is  studied  and  admired  throughout  the  old  world 
and  tlie  new,  and  it  will  be  so  by  generations  still 
unborn;  it  will  descend  to  posterity  in  company 
with  his  contemporary,  Shakspeare  (whose  name 
he  never  mentions),  and  will  endure  as  long  as  the 
great  and  glorious  language  itself ;  indeed,  as  he  fore- 
told of  his  Essay's,  it  "  will  live  as  long  as  books  last." 

In  the  translation  of  his  works  into  Latin,  he  was 
assisted  by  Rawley,  his  future  biographer,  and  his 
two  friends,  Ben  Jonson,  the  poet,  and  Hobbes,  the 
philosopher. 

He  wrote  for  his  "  own  recreation,"  amongst  very 
serious  studies,  a  Collection  of  Apophthegms,  New 
and  Old,  said  to  have  been  dictated  in  one  rainy 
day,  but  probably  the  result  of  several  "  rainy  days." 
This  contains  many  excellent  jocular  anecdotes,  and 
has  been,  perhaps,  with  too  much  indulgence,  pro- 
nounced by  Macaulay  to  be  the  best  jest-book  in  the 
world. 

He  commenced  a  Digest  of  the  Laws  of  England, 
but  he  soon  discontinued  it,  because  it  was  "  a  work 
of  assistance,  and  that  which  he  could  not  master  by 
his  own  forces  and  pen."  James  the  First  had  not 
sufficient  elevation  of  mind  to  afford  him  the  means 
of  securing  the  assistance  he  required. 

He  wrote  his  will  with  his  own  hand  on  the  19th 
of  December,  1625.  He  directs  that  he  shall  be 
interred  in  St.  Michael's  Church,  near  St.  Albans: 
"  There  was  my  mother  buried,  and  it  is  the  parish 


30  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

church  of  my  mansion-house  at  Gorhambury.  .... 
For  my  name  and  memory,  I  leave  it  to  men's 
charitable  speeches,  and  to  foreign  nations,  and  the 
next  ages."  This  supreme  act  of  filial  piety  towards 
his  gifted  mother  is  affecting.  Let  no  "imcharita- 
ble"  word  be  uttered  over  his  last  solemn  behest; 
foreign  nations  and  all  ages  will  not  refuse  a  tribute 
of  homage  to  his  genius !  Gassendi  presents  an 
analysis  of  his  labors,  and  pays  a  tribute  of  admira- 
tion to  their  author ;  Descartes  has  mentioned  him 
with  encomium ;  Malebranche  quotes  him  as  an  au- 
thority; Puffendorff  expressed  admiration  of  him; 
the  University  of  Oxford  presented  to  him,  after  his 
fall,  an  address,  in  which  he  is  termed  "a  mighty 
Hercules,  who  had  by  his  own  hand  greatly  ad- 
vanced those  pillars  in  the  learned  world  which  by 
the  rest  of  the  world  were  supposed  immovable." 
Leibnitz  ascribed  to  him  the  revival  of  true  philo- 
sophy; Newton  had  studied  him  so  closely  that  he 
adopted  even  his  phraseology ;  Voltaire  and  D'Alem- 
bert  have  rendered  him  popular  in  France.  The 
modem  philosophers  of  all  Europe  regard  him  rever- 
entially as  the  father  of  experimental  philosophy. 

He  attempted  at  this  late  period  of  his  life  a  met- 
rical translation  into  English  of  the  Psalms  of 
David ;  although  his  prose  is  full  of  poetry,  his  verse 
has  but  little  of  the  divine  art. 

He  again  declined  to  take  his  seat  as  a  peer  in 
Charles's  second  Parliament;  but  the  last  stage  of 
his  life  displayed  more  dignity  and  real  greatness 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  31 

than  the  "pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance"  of  his 
high  offices  and  honors.  The  public  of  England 
and  of  "foreign  nations"  forgot  the  necessity  of 
"  charitable  speeches "  and  anticipated  "  the  next 
ages."  The  most  distinguished  foreigners  repaired 
to  Gray's  Inn  to  pay  their  respects  to  him.  The 
Marquis  d'Effiat,  who  brought  over  to  England  the 
Princess  Henrietta  Maria,  the  wife  of  Charles  the 
First,  went  to  see  him.  Bacon,  confined  to  his  bed, 
but  unwilling  to  decline  the  visit,  received  him  with 
the  curtains  drawn.  "You  resemble  the  angels," 
said  the  French  minister  to  him,  "  we  hear  those 
beings  continually  talked  of;  we  believe  them  supe- 
rior to  mankind  ;  and  we  never  have  the  consolation 
to  see  them." 

But  in  ill  health  and  infirmity  he  continued  his 
studies  and  experiments ;  as  it  occurred  to  him  that 
snow  might  preserve  animal  substances  from  putre- 
faction as  well  as  salt,  he  tried  the  experiment,  and 
stuffed  a  fowl  with  snow  with  his  own  hands. 
"  The  great  apostle  of  experimental  philosophy  was 
destined  to  become  its  martyr ; "  he  took  cold.  From 
his  bed  he  dictated  a  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Arundel, 
to  whose  house  he  had  been  conveyed.  "  I  was 
likely  to  have  had  the  fortune  of  Caius  Plinius  the 
Elder,  who  lost  his  life  by  trying  an  experiment 
about  the  burning  of  the  Mount  Vesuvius.  For  I 
was  also  desirous  to  try  an  experiment  or  two  touch- 
ing the  conservation  and  induration  of  bodies.  As 
for  the  experiment  itself,  it  succeeded  excellently 


32  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

well."  He  had,  indeed,  the  fortune  of  Pliny  the 
Elder;  for  he  never  recovered  from  the  effects  of 
his  cold,  which  brought  on  fever  and  a  complaint  of 
the  chest ;  and  he  expired  on  the  9th  of  April,  1626, 
in  the  sixty-sixth  year  of  his  age.  Thus  died,  a  vic- 
tim to  his  devotion  to  science,  Francis  Bacon,  whose 
noble  death  is  an  expiation  of  the  errors  of  his  life, 
and  who  was,  as  has  been  justly  observed,  notwith- 
standing all  his  faults,  one  of  the  greatest  ornaments 
and  benefactors  of  the  human  race. 

No  account  has  been  preserved  of  his  funeral ; 
but  probably  it  was  private.  Sir  Thomas  Meautys, 
his  faithful  secretary,  erected  at  his  own  expense  a 
monument  to  Bacon's  memory.  Bacon  is  represented 
sitting,  reclining  on  his  hand,  and  absorbed  in  medi- 
tation.   The  effigy  bears  the  inscription :  sic  sedebat. 

The  singular  fact  ought  not  to  be  omitted,  that 
notwithstanding  the  immense  sums  that  had  been 
received  by  him,  legitimately  or  otherwise,  he  died 
insolvent.  The  fault  of  his  life  had  been  that  he 
never  adapted  his  expenses  to  his  income ;  perhaps 
even  he  never  calculated  them.  To  what  irretrieva- 
ble ruin  did  not  this  lead  him?  To  disgrace  and 
dishonor,  in  the  midst  of  his  career;  to  insolvency 
at  its  end.  His  love  of  worldly  grandeur  was  un- 
controllable, or  at  least  uncontrolled.  "The  virtue 
of  prosperity  is  temperance,"  says  he  himself;  but 
this  virtue  he  did  not  possess.  His  stately  bark 
rode  proudly  over  the  waves,  unmindful  of  the 
rocks ;  on  one  of  these,  alas  I  it  split  and  foundered. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  33 

Bacon  was  very  prepossessing  in  his  person ;  he 
was  in  stature  above  the  middle  size ;  his  forehead 
was  broad  and  high,  of  an  intellectual  appearance ; 
his  eye  was  lively  and  expressive ;  and  his  counte- 
nance bore  early  the  marks  of  deep  thought. 

It  might  be  mentioned  here  with  instruction  to 
the  reader,  that  few  men  were  more  impressed  than 
Bacon  with  the  value  of  time,  the  most  precious 
element  of  life.  He  assiduously  employed  the  small- 
est portions  of  it ;  considering  justly  that  the  days, 
the  hours,  nay  minutes  of  existence  require  the  great- 
est care  at  our  hands ;  the  weeks,  months,  and  years 
have  been  wisely  said  to  take  care  of  themselves. 
His  chaplain,  Rawley,  remarks:  ''Nullum,  momentum 
aut  temporis  segmentum  perire  et  intercidere  passus 
est,"  he  suffered  no  moment  nor  fragment  of  time  to 
pass  away  unprofitably.  It  is  this  circumstance  that 
explains  to  us  the  great  things  he  accomplished  even 
in  the  most  busy  part  of  his  life. 

The  whole  of  Bacon's  biography  has  been  admira- 
bly recapitulated  by  Lord  Campbell  ^  in  the  following 
paragraph :  — 

"We  have  seen  him  taught  his  alphabet  by  his  mother; 
patted  on  the  head  by  Queen  Elizabeth ;  mocking  the  wor- 
shippers of  Aristotle  at  Cambridge;  catching  the  first  glimpses, 
of  his  great  discoveries,  and  yet  uncertain  whether  the  light 
was  from  heaven ;  associating  with  the  learned  and  the  gay 
at  the  court  of  France;   devoting  himself  to  Bracton''  and 

*  Lives  of  the  Lord  Chancellors  and  Keepers  of  the  Great  Seal  of 
England. 

^  Bracton  is  one  of  the  earliest  wi'iters  of  English  law.     He 
3 


34  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

the  Year  Books  in  Gray's  Inn;  throwing  aside  the  musty 
folios  of  the  law  to  write  a  moral  Essay,  to  make  an  experi- 
ment in  natural  philosophy,  or  to  detect  the  fallacies  which 
had  hitherto  obstructed  the  progress  of  useful  truth ;  contented 
for  a  time  with  taking  *'  all  knowledge  for  his  province ; " 
roused  from  these  speculations  by  the  stings  of  vulgar  ambi- 
tion; plying  all  the  arts  of  flattery  to  gain  official  advance- 
ment by  royal  and  courtly  favor ;  entering  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  displaying  powers  of  oratory  of  which  he  had 
been  unconscious ;  being  seduced  by  the  love  of  popular  ap- 
plause, for  a  brief  space  becoming  a  patriot ;  making  amends, 
by  defending  all  the  worst  excesses  of  prerogative ;  publishing 
to  the  world  lucubrations  on  morals,  which  show  the  nicest 
perception  of  what  is  honorable  and  beautiful  as  well  as  pru- 
dent, in  the  conduct  of  life ;  yet  the  son  of  a  Lord  Keeper,  the 
nephew  of  the  prime  minister,  a  Queen's  counsel,  with  the  first 
priictice  at  the  bar,  arrested  for  debt,  and  languishing  in  a 
spunging-house ;  tired  with  vain  solicitations  to  his  own  kin- 
dred for  promotion,  joining  the  party  of  their  opponent,  and 
after  experiencing  the  most  generous  kindness  from  the  young 
and  chivalrous  head  of  it,  assisting  to  bring  him  to  the  scaf- 
fold, and  to  blacken  his  memory ;  seeking,  by  a  mercenary 
marriage  to  repair  his  broken  fortunes ;  on  the  accession  of  a 
new  sovereign  offering  up  the  most  servile  adulation  to  a 
pedant  whom  he  utterly  despised ;  infinitely  gratified  by  being 
permitted  to  kneel  down,  with  three  hundred  others,  to  receive 
the  honor  of  knighthood;  truckling  to  a  worthless  favorite 
with  the  most  slavish  subserviency  that  he  might  be  appointed 
a  law-officer  of  the  Crown ;  then  giving  the  most  admirable 
advice  for  the  compilation  and  emendation  of  the  laws  of 
England,  and  helping  to  inflict  torture  on  a  poor  parson  whom 
he  wished  to  hang  as  a  traitor  for  writing  an  unpublished  and 


flourished  in  the  thirteenth  century.     The  title  of  his  work  is  De 
Legibus  et  Consuetudinibus  Anglioc,  first  printed  in  1569. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  35 

unpreached  sermon;  attracting  the  notice  of  all  Europe  by 
his  philosophical  works,  which  established  a  new  era  in  tlie 
mode  of  investigating  the  phenomena  both  of  matter  and 
mind;  basely  intriguing  m  the  meanwhile  for  further  promo- 
tion, and  writing  secret  letters  to  his  sovereign  to  disparage  his 
rivals ;  riding  proudly  between  the  Lord  High  Treasurer  and 
Lord  Privy  Seal,  preceded  by  his  mace- bearer  and  purse- 
bearer,  and  followed  by  a  long  line  of  nobles  and  judges,  to 
be  installed  in  the  office  of  Lord  High  Chancellor ;  by  and  by, 
settling  with  his  servants  the  account  of  the  bribes  they  had 
received  for  him ;  a  little  embarrassed  by  being  obliged,  out 
of  decency,  the  case  being  so  clear,  to  decide  against  the  party 
whose  money  he  had  pocketed,  but  stifling  the  misgivings  of 
conscience  by  the  splendor  and  flattery  which  he  now  com- 
manded ;  struck  to  the  earth  by  the  discovery  of  his  corrup- 
tion ;  taking  to  his  bed,  and  refusing  sustenance ;  confessing 
the  truth  of  the  charges  brought  against  him,  and  abjectly 
imploring  mercy ;  nobly  rallymg  from  his  disgrace,  and  en- 
gaging in  new  literary  undertakings,  which  have  added  to  the 
splendor  of  his  name;  still  exhibiting  a  touch  of  his  ancient 
vanity,  and,  in  the  midst  of  pecuniary  embarrassment,  refusing 
to  '  be  stripped  of  his  feathers ; '  i  inspired,  nevertheless,  with 
all  his  youthful  zeal  for  science,  in  conducting  his  last  experi- 
ment of  '  stuffing  a  fowl  with  snow  to  preserve  it,'  which 
succeeded  *  excellently  well,'  but  brought  hhn  to  his  grave ; 
and,  as  the  closing  act  of  a  life  so  checkered,  making  his  will, 
whereby,  conscious  of  the  shame  he  had  incun'ed  among  his 
contemporaries,  but  hnpressed  with  a  swelling  conviction  of 
what  he  had  achieved  for  mankind,  he  bequeathed  his  '  name 
and  memory  to  men's  charitable  speeches,  to  foreign  nations, 
and  the  next  ages.' " 

After  this  brilliant  recapitulation  of  the  principal 
facts   of  Bacon's   eventful    life,   there   remains    the 

*  The  woods  on  his  estate  of  Gorhambury. 


36  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

difficult  task  of  examining  his  character  as  a  writer 
and  philosopher ;  and  then  of  presenting  some  ob- 
servations on  his  principal  works.  As  these  sub- 
jects have  occupied  the  attention  of  the  master  minds 
and  most  elegant  writers  of  England,  we  shall  un- 
hesitatingly present  the  reader  with  the  opinions 
of  these,  the  moet  competent  judges  in  each  special 
department. 

But  first,  let  the  philosopher  speak  for  himself. 

The  end  and  aim  of  the  writings  of  Bacon  are 
best  described  by  himself,  as  these  descriptions  may 
be  gleaned  from  his  various  works.  He  taught,  to 
use  his  own  language,  the  means,  not  of  the  "ampli- 
fication of  the  power  of  one  man  over  his  country, 
nor  of  the  amplification  of  the  power  of  that  coun- 
try over  other  nations ;  but  the  amplification  of  the 
power  and  kingdom  of  mankind  over  the  world."  ^ 
"  A  restitution  of  man  to  the  sovereignty  of  nature."  ^ 
"  The  enlarging  the  bounds  of  human  empire  to  the 
effecting  of  all  things  possible."^  From  the  enlarge- 
ment of  reason,  he  did  not  separate  the  growth  of 
virtue;  for  he  thought  that  "truth  and  goodness 
were  one,  differing  but  as  the  seal  and  the  print, 
for  truth  prints  goodness."* 

The  art  which  Bacon  taught,  has  been  well  said 
to  be  "  the  art  of  inventing  arts." 

The  great  qualities  of  his  mind,  as  they  are  exhi- 
bited in  his  works,  have  been  well  portrayed  by  the 

*  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature.  *  Ibid. 

•  New  Atlantis.  *  Advancement  of  Learning. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  37 

pen  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh.     We  subjoin   the 
opinion  of  this  elegant  writer  in  his  own  words : 

"  It  is  easy  to  describe  his  transcendant  merit  in  general 
terms  of  commendation :  for  some  of  his  great  qualities  lie 
on  the  surface  of  his  writings.  But  that  in  which  he  most 
excelled  all  other  men,  was  in  the  range  and  compass  of  his 
intellectual  view  —  the  power  of  contemplating  many  and 
distant  objects  together,  without  indistinctness  or  confusion  — 
which  he  himself  has  called  the  discursive  or  comprehensive 
understanding.  This  wide-ranging  intellect  was  illuminated 
by  the  brightest  Fancy  that  ever  contented  itself  with  the 
office  of  only  ministering  to  Reason :  and  from  this  singular 
relation  of  the  two  grand  faculties  of  man,  it  has  resulted, 
that  his  philosophy,  though  illustrated  still  more  than  adorned 
by  the  utmost  splendor  of  imagery,  continues  stUl  subject  to 
the  undivided  supremacy  of  intellect.  In  the  midst  of  aU 
the  prodigality  of  an  imagination  which,  had  it  been  inde- 
pendent, would  have  been  poetical,  his  opinions  remained 
severely  rational. 

"It  is  not  so  easy  to  conceive,  or  at  least  to  describe,  other 
equally  essential  elements  of  his  greatness,  and  conditions  of 
his  success.  ,  He  is  probably  a  single  instance  of  a  mind 
which,  in  philosophizing,  always  reaches  the  point  of  eleva- 
tion whence  the  whole  prospect  is  commanded,  without  ever 
rising  to  such  a  distance  as  to  lose  a  distinct  perception  of 
every  part  of  it."  ^ 

Mr.  Macaulay  speaks  of  the  following  peculiarity 
of  Bacon's  understanding :  ^  — 

"  With  great  minuteness  of  observation  he  had  an  ampli- 
tude of  comprehension  such  as  has  never  yet  been  vouch- 
safed to  any  other  human  being.  The  small  fine  mind  of 
La  Bruyere  had  not  a  more  delicate  tact  than  the  large  iutel- 

1  Edinburgh  Review.  ^  Essays.  " 


38  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

lect  of  Bacon.  The  "  Essays  "  contain  abundant  proofs  that 
no  nice  feature  of  character,  no  peculiarity  in  the  ordering 
of  a  house,  a  garden,  or  a  court-masque,  could  escape  the 
notice  of  one  whose  mind  was  capable  of  taking  in  the  whole 
world  of  knowledge.  His  understanding  resembled  the  tent 
which  the  fairy  Paribanou  gave  to  prince  Ahmed.  Fold  it, 
and  it  seemed  a  toy  for  the  hand  of  the  lady.  Spread  it, 
and  the  armies  of  powerful  sultans  might  repose  beneath  its 
shade. 

"  In  keenness  of  observation  he  has  been  equalled,  though, 
perhaps,  never  surpassed.  But  the  largeness  of  his  miud 
was  all  his  own.  The  glance  with  which  he  surveyed  the 
intellectual  universe,  resembled  that  which  the  archangel, 
from  the  golden  threshold  of  heaven,  darted  down  into  the 
new  creation. 

"  Round  he  surveyed  and  well  might,  where  he  stood 
So  high  above  the  circling  canopy 
Of  night's  extended  shade  —  from  eastern  point 
Of  Libra,  to  the  fleecy  star  which  bears 
Andromeda  far  off  Atlantic  seas 
Beyond  the  horizon." 

Bacon's  philosophy  is,  to  use  an  expression  of  his 
own,  "  the  servant  and  interpreter  of  nature ; "  he 
cultivated  it  in  the  leisure  left  him  by  the  assiduous 
study  and  practice  of  the  law  and  by  the  willing 
duties  of  a  courtier ;  it  was  rather  the  recreation 
than  the  business  of  his  life;  "my  business,"  said 
he,  "  found  rest  in  my  contemplations ; "  but  his  very 
recreations  rendered  him,  according  to  Leibnitz,  the 
father  of  experimental  philosophy,  and,  according 
to  all,  the  originator  of  all  its  results,  of  all  later 
discoveries  in  chemistry  and  the  arts,  in  short,  of 
all  modern  science  and  its  applications. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  39 

Mr.  Macaulay  is  of  opinion  that  the  two  leading 
principles  of  his  philosophy  are  utility  and  progress  ; 
that  the  ethics  of  his  inductive  method  are  to  do 
good,  to  do  more  and  more  good,  to  mankind. 

Lord  Campbell  believes  that  a  most  perfect  body  of 
ethics  might  be  made  out  from  the  writings  of  Bacon. 

The  origin  of  his  philosophy  was  the  conviction 
with  which  he  was  impressed  of  the  insufficiency  of 
that  of  the  ancients,  or  rather  of  that  of  Aristotle, 
which  reigned  with  almost  undisputed  sway  through- 
out Europe.  He  reverenced  antiquity  for  its  great 
works,  its  great  men ;  but  not  because  of  its  ancient- 
ness;  he  deemed  its  decrees  worthy  of  reverential 
consideration,  but  did  not  think  they  admitted  of  no 
appeal;  he  was  not  a  bigot  to  antiquity  or  a  con- 
temner of  modern  times.  He  happily  combated 
that  undue  and  blind  submission  to  the  authority  of 
ancient  times  for  the  mere  reason  that  they  are 
older  than  our  own,  alleging  truly  that  "  antiquitas 
SECULi  JUVEXTUS  MUNDi,  that  our  times  are  the 
ancient  times,  when  the  world  is  ancient,  and  not 
those  which  we  account  ancient,  ordine  retrogrado, 
by  a  computation  backward  from  ourselves."  ^ 

Throwing  off,  then,  all  allegiance  to  antiquity,  he 
appealed  directly  from  Aristotle  to  nature,  from 
reasoning  to  experiment. 

But  let  us  invoke  the  testimony  of  an  eminent 
philosopher,  Sir  John  Herschel:  — 

1  Advancement  of  Learning. 


40  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

"  By  the  discoveries  of  Copernicus,  Kepler,  and  Galileo, 
the  errors  of  the  Aristotelian  philosophy  were  eflFectually  over- 
turned on  a  plain  appeal  to  the  facts  of  nature;  but  it  re- 
mained to  show,  on  broad  and  general  principles,  how  and 
why  Aristotle  was  in  the  wrong ;  to  set  in  evidence  the  pecu- 
liar weakness  of  his  method  of  philosophizing,  and  to  substi- 
tute in  its  place  a  stronger  and  better.  This  important  task 
was  executed  by  Francis  Bacon,  Lord  Verulam,  who  will 
therefore  justly  be  looked  upon  in  all  future  ages  as  the  great 
reformer  of  philosophy,  though  his  own  actual  contributions 
to  the  stock  of  physical  truths  were  small,  and  his  ideas  of 
particular  points  strongly  tinctured  with  mistakes  and  errors, 
which  were  the  fault  rather  of  the  general  want  of  physical 
information  of  the  age  than  of  any  narrowness  of  view  on 
his  own  part;  of  this  he  was  fully  aware.  It  has  been  at- 
tempted by  some  to  lessen  the  merit  of  this  great  achieve- 
ment, by  showing  that  the  inductive  method  had  been 
practised  in  many  instances,  both  ancient  and  modem,  by  the 
mere  instinct  of  mankind ;  but  it  is  not  the  introduction  of  in- 
ductive reasoning,  as  a  new  and  hitherto  untried  process,  which 
characterizes  the  Baconian  philosophy,  but  his  keen  percep- 
tion, and  his  broad  and  spirit-stirring,  almost  enthusiastic, 
announcement  of  its  paramount  importance,  as  the  alpha  and 
omega  of  science,  as  the  grand  and  only  chain  for  the  linking 
together  of  physical  truths,  and  the  eventual  key  to  every  dis- 
covery and  every  application.  Those  who  would  deny  hira  his 
just  glory  on  such  grounds  would  refuse  to  Jenner  or  to  Howard 
their  civic  crowns,  because  a  few  farmers  in  a  remote  province 
had,  time  out  of  mind,  been  acquainted  with  vaccination,  or 
philanthropists,  in  all  ages,  had  occasionally  visited  the  pris- 
oner in  his  dungeon." 

"  It  is  to  our  immortal  countryman  Bacon,"  says  he,  again, 
"  that  we  owe  the  broad  announcement  of  this  grand  and 
fertile  principle;  and  the  development  of  the  idea,  that  the 
whole  of  natural  philosophy  consists  entirely  of  a  series  of 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  41 

inductive  generalizations,  commencing  with  the  most  circum- 
stantially stated  particulars,  and  canned  up  to  universal  laws, 
or  axioms,  which  comprehend  in  their  statements  every  sub- 
ordinate degree  of  generality  and  of  a  corresponding  series 
of  inverted  reasoning  from  generals  to  particulars,  by  which 
these  axioms  are  traced  back  into  their  remotest  conse- 
quences, and  all  particular  propositions  deduced  from  them, 
as  well  those  by  whose  immediate  consideration  we  rose  to 
their  discovery,  as  those  of  which  we  had  no  previous  knowl- 
edge. .  .  . 

"  It  would  seem  that  a  union  of  two  qualities  almost  oppo- 
site to  each  other  —  a  going  forth  of  the  thoughts  in  two 
directions,  and  a  sudden  transfer  of  ideas  from  a  remote  sta- 
tion in  one  to  an  equally  distant  one  in  the  other  —  is  required 
to  start  the  first  idea  of  applying  science.  Among  the  Greeks, 
this  point  was  attained  by  Archimedes,  but  attained  too  late, 
on  the  eve  of  that  great  eclipse  of  science  which  was  destined 
to  continue  for  nearly  eighteen  centuries,  tUl  Galileo  in  Italy, 
and  Bacon  in  England,  at  once  dispelled  the  darkness;  the 
one,  by  his  inventions  and  discoveries ;  the  other,  by  the  irre- 
sistible force  of  his  arguments  and  eloquence."  ^ 

His  style  is  copious,  comprehensive,  and  smooth; 
it  does  not  flow  with  the  softness  of  the  purling  rill, 
but  rather  with  the  strength,  fulness,  and  swelling  of 
a  majestic  river,  and  the  rude  harmony  of  the  moun- 
tain stream.  His  images  are  replete  with  poetry  and 
thought ;  they  always  illustrate  his  subject.  HaUam 
is  of  opinion  that  the  modern  writer  that  comes  near- 
est to  him  is  Burke.  "  He  had,"  said  Addison,  "  the 
sound,  distinct,  comprehensive  knowledge  of  Aris- 
totle, with  all  the  beautiful  lights,  graces,  and  embel- 

1  Preliminary  Discourse  on  the  Study  of  Natural  Philosophy. 


42  NOTICE  OF  FEANCIS  BACON. 

lishments  of  Cicero.  One  does  not  know  which  to 
admire  most  in  his  writings,  the  strength  of  reason, 
force  of  style,  or  brightness  of  imagination."  ^ 

Bacon  improved  so  much  the  melody,  elegance,  and 
force  of  English  prose,  that  we  may  apply  to  him 
what  was  said  of  Augustus  with  regard  to  Rome : 
lateritiam  invenit,  marmoream  reliquit ;  he  found  it 
brick,  and  he  left  it  marble.  Mr,  Hallam's  opinion 
differs  somewhat  from  this ;  it  is  as  follows :  — 

"The  style  of  Bacon  has  an  idiosyncrasy  which  we  might 
expect  from  his  genius.  It  can  rarely  indeed  happen,  and 
only  in  men  of  secondary  talents,  that  the  language  they  use 
is  not,  by  its  very  choice  and  collocation,  as  well  as  its  mean- 
ing, the  representative  of  an  individuality  that  distinguishes 
their  turn  of  thought.  Bacon  is  elaborate,  sententious,  often 
witty,  often  metaphorical ;  nothing  could  be  spared ;  his  anal- 
ogies are  generally  striking  and  novel ;  his  style  is  clear,  pre- 
cise, forcible ;  yet  there  is  some  degree  of  stiffness  about  it, 
and  in  mere  language  he  is  inferior  to  Raleigh."  * 

It  is  a  most  remarkable  characteristic  of  Bacon, 
and  one  in  which  Burke  resembled  him,  that  his 
imagination  grew  stronger  with  his  increasing  years, 
and  his  style  richer  and  softer.  "  The  fruit  came 
first,"  says  Mr.  Macaulay,  "  and  remained  till  the 
last ;  the  blossoms  did  not  appear  till  late.  In  elo- 
quence, in  sweetness  and  variety  of  expression,  and 
in  richness  of  illustration,  his  later  writings  are  far 

1  Tattler,  No.  267. 

^  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe  in  the  fifteenth,  six- 
teenth, and  seventeenth  centuries. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  43 

superior  to  those  of  his  youth."  His  eariiest  Essays 
have  as  much  truth  and  cogent  reasoning  as  his 
latest;  but  these  are  far  superior  in  grace  and  beauty. 
A  most  striking  illustration  of  this  is  afforded  by  one 
of  the  last  Essays,  added  a  year  before  Bacon's  death, 
that  of  Adversity  (Essay  V.),  than  which  naught  can 
be  more  graceful  and  beautiful. 

The  account  of  Bacon's  works  will  necessarily  be 
very  succinct,  and,  we  fear,  imperfect.  We  shall, 
however,  for  each  of  them,  call  in  the  aid  of  the 
most  competent  judges,  whose  award  public  opinion 
will  not  reverse. 

ESSAYS, 

Bacon  published  his  Essays  in  1597.  They  were, 
in  the  estimation  of  Mr.  Hallam,  the  first  in  time 
and  in  excellence  of  English  writings  on  moral  pru- 
dence. Of  the  fifty-eight  Essays,  of  which  the  work 
is  now  composed,  ten  only  appeared  in  the  first 
edition.  But  to  these  were  added  Religious  Medi- 
tations, Places  of  Perswasion  and  Disswasion,  Seene 
dnd  allowed  ;  many  of  which  were  afterwards  embod- 
ied in  the  Essays.  These  Essays  were  :  1.  Of  Studie; 
2.  Of  Discourse  ;  3.  Of  Ceremonies  and  Respects ;  4. 
Of  Followers  and  Friends ;  5.  Of  Sutors ;  6.  Of  Ex- 
pence  ;  7.  Of  Regiment  of  Health ;  8.  Of  Honor  and 
Reputation;  9.  Of  Faction;  10.  Of  Negociating.  In 
the  edition  of  1612,  "  The  Essaies  of  S'  Francis  Ba- 
con  Knight,  the  King's  Atturny  Generall,"  were 
increased  to  forty-one. 


44  NOTICE  OF  FKANCIS  BACON. 

The  new  Essays  added  are :  1.  Of  Religion  ;  2.  Of 
Death ;  3.  Of  Goodnesse,  and  Goodnesse  of  Nature  ; 
4.  Of  Cunning ;  5.  Of  Marriage  and  Single  Life  ;  6,  Of 
Parents  and  Children ;  7.  Of  Nobility ;  8.  Of  Great 
Place;  9.  Of  Empire;  10.  Of  Counsell;  11.  Of  Dis- 
patch; 12.  Of  Love;  13.  Of  Friendship;  14.  Of 
Atheism;  15.  Of  Superstition;  16.  Of  Wisedome 
for  a  Man's  selfe;  20.  Of  seeming  wise;  21.  Of 
Riches ;  22.  Of  Ambition ;  23.  Of  Young  Men  and 
Age  ;  24.  Of  Beauty ;  25.  Of  Deformity ;  26.  Of  Nor 
ture  in  Men ;  27.  Of  Custom  and  Education ;  28. 
Of  Fortune  ;  35.  Of  Praise ;  36.  Of  Judicature  ;  37. 
of  Vaine-Glory ;  38.  Of  Greatnesse  of  Kingdomes ; 
39.  Of  the  Publique ;  40.  Of  Warre  and  Peace. 

These  forty- one  Essays  were  afterwards  again  aug- 
mented to  fifty-eight,  with  the  new  title  of  The  Es- 
saies  or  Covnsels,  Civill  and  Morall ;  they  were 
likewise  improved  by  corrections,  additions,  and  illus- 
trations. By  the  peculiarity  of  Bacon,  already  no- 
ticed, the  later  Essays  rise  in  beauty  and  interest. 

Bacon  considered  his  Essays  but  as  "the  recreations 
of  his  other  studies."  He  has  entitled  them,  in  the 
Latin  translation,  Sermones  jideles,  sive  Interiora  re- 
rum.  The  idea  of  them,  as  has  been  already  men- 
tioned, was  suggested  by  those  of  Montaigne ;  but 
there  is  but  little  resemblance  between  the  two  pro- 
ductions. Montaigne  is  natural,  ingenuous,  sportive. 
Bacon's  " Essays  or  Counsels,  civil  and  moral"  " the 
fragments  of  his  conceits,"  as  he  styles  them,  are  all 
study,  art,  and  gravity ;  but  the  reflections  in  them 


NOTICE  OF  FEANCIS  BACON.  45 

are  true  and  profound.  Montaigne  confessedly 
painted  himself,  declared  that  he  was  the  matter 
of  his  own  book/  while  with  Bacon  the  man  was 
merged  in  the  author  and  the  philosopher,  who  pro 
pounded  like  Seneca,  and  somewhat  in  Seneca's  style, 
the  maxims  of  practical  wisdom,  that,  to  use  Bacon's 
o\vn  language,  "come  home  to  men's  business  and 
bosoms,"  and  clothed  them  in  a  garb,  new,  elegant, 
and  rich,  hitherto  unknown  in  England.  But  our 
author,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  matter  and  even 
manner  of  his  Essays,  may  have  had  in  view,  not 
BO  much  Montaigne's  Essais  as  Seneca's  Letters  to 
Lucilius.  The  Essay  of  Death  is  obviously  founded 
on  Seneca's  Epistles  on  this  subject.  That  he  was 
well  acquainted  with  Seneca's  Letters,  is  incontro- 
vertible. He  alludes  to  them  thus  in  the  dedication 
to  Prince  Henry,  in  1612 :  "  The  word  (Essays),"  says 
he,  "  is  late,  but  the  thing  is  ancient ;  for  Seneca's 
Epistles  to  Lucilius,  if  you  mark  them  well,  are  but 
Essays,  that  is,  dispersed  meditations,  though  con- 
veyed in  the  form  of  epistles."  Bacon  justly  foretold 
of  his  Essays  that  they  "  would  live  as  long  as  books 
last." 


1  Montaigne  says,  in  his  author's  address  to  the  reader  :  — 
"  le  veiilx  qu'on  m'y  vcoye  en  ma  fa<^on  simple,  naturelle  et  ordu 
naire,  sans  estude  et  artifice  ;  car  c'est  moi  que  je  peinds."  He  says 
again  elsewhere  :  "  /e  n'ay  pas  plus  faict  mon  livre,  que  mon  livre 
m'a  faict;  livre  consubstantiel  &  son  aucteur,  d'une  occupation 
propre,  mevibre  de  ma  vie,  non  d^une  occupation  et  Jin  tierce  et 
estrangiere,  comme  touts  aiUtres  livres."     (Livre  ii.  ch.  xviii.) 


46  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

The  following  is  the  opinion  of  Dugald  Stewart, 
himself  an  eminent  philosopher  and  elegant  writer : 

"His  Essays  are  the  best  known  and  most  popular  of  all 
his  works.  It  is  also  one  of  those  where  the  superiority  uf , 
bis  genius  appears  to  the  greatest  advantage;  the  novelty 
and  depth  of  his  reflections  often  receiving  a  strong  relief  fi-om 
triteness  of  the  subject.  It  may  be  read  from  beginning  to 
end  in  a  few  hours;  and  yet,  after  the  twentieth  perusal,  one 
seldom  fails  to  remark  in  it  something  unobserved  before. 
This,  indeed,  is  a  characteristic  of  all  Bacon's  writings,  and 
only  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  inexhaustible  aliment  they 
furnish  to  our  own  thoughts,  and  the  sympathetic  activity 
they  impart  to  our  torpid  faculties."^ 

The  reader  will,  perhaps,  be  rather  gratified  than 
wearied  with  another  appreciation  of  this  valuable 
production  of  our  young  moralist  of  twenty-six.  It 
is  of  no  incompetent  judge,  —  Mr.  Hallam. 

"  The  transcendent  strength  of  Bacon's  mind  is  visible  in 
the  whole  tenor  of  these  Essays,  unequal  as  they  must  be 
from  the  very  nature  of  such  compositions.  They  are  deeper 
and  more  discriminating  than  any  earlier,  or  almost  any  later 
work  in  the  English  language,  full  of  recondite  observation, 
long  matured  and  carefully  sifted.  It  is  true  that  we  might 
wish  for  more  vivacity  and  ease;  Bacon,  who  had  much  wit, 
had  little  gayety ;  his  Essays  are  consequently  stiff  and  grave 
wliero  the  subject  might  have  been  touched  with  a  lively 
baud ;  thus  it  is  in  those  on  Gardens  and  on  Building.  The 
sentences  have  sometimes  too  apophthegmatic  a  form  and 
want  coherence ;  the  historical  instances,  though  far  less  fre- 
quent than  with  Montaigne,  have  a  little  the  look  of  pedantry 
to  our  eyes.     But  it  is  from  this   condensation,  from  this 

*  Introduction  to  the  Encyclopsedia. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  47 

gravity,  that  the  work  derives  its  peculiar  impressiveness. 
Few  books  are  more  quoted,  and  what  is  not  always  the  case 
wiili  such  books,  we  may  add  that  few  are  more  generally 
read.  In  this  respect  they  lead  the  van  of  our  prose  litera- 
ture ;  for  no  gentleman  is  ashamed  of  owning  that  he  has  not 
read  the  Elizabethan  writers;  but  it  would  be  somewhat 
derogatory  to  a  man  of  the  slightest  claim  to  polite  letters, 
were  he  unacquainted  with  the  Essays  of  Bacon.  It  is, 
indeed,  little  worth  while  to  read  this  or  any  other  book  for 
reputation  sake ;  but  very  few  in  our  language  so  well  repay 
the  pains,  or  afford  more  nourishment  to  the  thoughts.  They 
might  be  judiciously  introduced,  with  a  small  number  more, 
into  a  sound  method  of  education,  one  that  should  make 
wisdom,  rather  than  mere  knowledge,  its  object,  and  might 
become  a  text-book  of  examination  in  our  schools."  ^ 


ADVANCEMENT  OF  LEARNING. 

The  Advancement  of  Learning  was  published  in 
1605.  It  has  usually  been  considered  that  the  whole 
of  Bacon's  philosophy  is  contained  in  this  work,  ex- 
cepting, however,  the  second  book  of  the  Novum  Or- 
ganum.  Of  the  Advancement  of  Learning  he  made 
a  Latin  translation,  under  the  title  of  De  Dignitate 
et  Augmentis  Scientiarum,  which,  however,  contains 
about  one  third  of  new  matter  and  some  slight  inter- 
polations ;  a  few  omissions  have  been  remarked 
in  it. 

The  Advancement  of  Learning  is,  as  it  were, 
to   use  his   own  language,  "  a  small  globe  of  the 

^  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe  in  the  fifteenth, 
sixteenth,  and  seventeenth  centuries. 


48  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

intellectual  world,  as  truly  and  faithfully  as  I  could 
discover  with  a  note  and  description  of  those  facts 
which  seem  to  me  not  constantly  occupate  or  not 
well  converted  by  the  labor  of  man.  In  which,  if 
I  have  in  any  point  receded  from  that  which  is 
commonly  received,  it  hath  been  with  a  purpose  of 
proceeding  in  melius  and  not  in  aliud,  a  mind  of 
amendment  and  proficience,  and  not  of  change  and 
difference.  For  I  could  not  be  true  and  constant 
to  the  argument  I  handle,  if  I  were  not  willing  to 
go  beyond  others,  but  yet  not  more  willing  than  to 
have  others  go  beyond  me." 

The  Advancement  of  Learning  is  divided  into 
two  parts;  the  former  of  which  is  intended  to  re- 
move prejudices  against  the  search  after  truth,  by 
pointing  out  the  causes  which  obstruct  it ;  in  the 
second,  learning  is  divided  into  history,  poetry,  and 
philosophy,  according  to  the  faculties  of  the  mind 
from  which  they  emanate  —  memory,  imagination, 
and  reason.  Our  author  states  the  deficiencies  he 
obsei'ves  in  each. 

All  the  peculiar  qualities  of  his  style  are  fully 
developed  in  this  noble  monument  of  genius,  one 
of  the  finest  in  English,  or  perhaps  any  other  lan- 
guage ;  it  is  full  of  deep  thought,  keen  observation, 
rich  imagery,  Attic  wit,  and  apt  illustration.  Dugald 
Stewart  and  Hallam  have  both  expressed  their  just 
admiration  of  the  short  paragraph  on  poesy;  but, 
with  all  due  deference,  we  must  consider  that  the 
beautiful  passage  on  the  dignity  and  excellency  of 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  49 

knowledge  is  surpassed  by  none.  Can  aught  excel 
the  noble  comparison  of  the  ship  ?  The  reader  shall 
judge  for  himself. 

"If  the  invention  of  the  ship  was  thought  so  noble,  which 
carrieth  riches  and  commodities  fi'om  place  to  place,  and  conso- 
ciateth  the  most  remote  regions  in  participation  of  their  fruits ; 
liow  much  more  are  letters  to  be  magnified,  which,  as  ships, 
pass  through  the  vast  seas  of  time,  and  make  ages  so  distant 
to  participate  of  the  wisdom,  illuminations,  and  inventions, 
the  one  of  the  other  ?  " 


DE   SAPIENTIA  VETERUM. 

The  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,  or  rather,  De  sapi- 
entia  i^eterum  (for  it  was  written  in  Latin),  is  a  short 
treatise  on  the  mythology  of  the  ancients,  by  which 
Bacon  endeavors  to  discover  and  to  show  the  physi- 
cal, moral,  and  political  meanings  it  concealed.  If 
the  reader  is  not  convinced  that  the  ancients  under- 
stood by  these  fables  all  that  Bacon  discovers  in 
them,  he  must  at  least  admit  the  probability  of  it, 
and  be  impressed  with  the  penetration  of  the  author 
and  the  variety  and  depth  of  his  knowledge. 

INSTAURATIO  HIAGNA. 

The  Instauratio  Magna  was  published  in  1620, 
while  Bacon  was  still  chancellor. 

In  his  dedication  of  it  to  James  the  First,  in  1620, 
in  which  he  says  he  has  been  engaged  in  it  nearly 
thirty  years,  he  pathetically  remarks :  "  The  reason 

4 


50  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

why  I  have  published  it  now,  specially  being  im- 
perfect, is,  to  speak  plainly,  because  I  number  my 
days,  and  would  have  it  saved."  His  country  and 
the  world  participate  in  the  opinion  of  the  philoso- 
pher, and  would  have  deemed  its  loss  one  of  the 
greatest  to  mankind. 

Such  was  the  care  with  which  it  was  composed, 
that  Bacon  transcribed  it  twelve  times  with  his  own 
hand. 

It  is  divided  into  six  parts.  The  first  entitled 
Partitiones  Scientiarum,  or  the  divisions  of  knowl- 
edge possessed  by  mankind,  in  which  the  author 
has  noted  the  deficiencies  and  imperfections  of  each. 
This  he  had  already  accomplished  by  his  Advance- 
ment of  Learning. 

Part  2  is  the  Novum  Organum  Scientiarum,  or 
new  method  of  studying  the  sciences,  a  name  proba^ 
bly  suggested  by  Aristotle's  Organon  (treatises  on 
Logic).  He  intended  it  to  be  "the  science  of  a 
better  and  more  perfect  use  of  reason  in  the  inves- 
tigation of  things  and  of  the  true  end  of  understand- 
ing." This  has  been  generally  denominated  the 
inductive  method,  i.  e.  the  experimental  method, 
from  the  principle  of  induction,  or  bringing  together 
facts  and  drawing  from  them  general  principles  or 
truths,  by  which  the  author  proposes  the  advance- 
ment of  all  kinds  of  knowledge.  In  this  consists 
preeminently  the  philosophy  of  Bacon.  Not  rea- 
soning upon  conjecture  on  the  laws  and  properties 
of  nature,  but,  as  Bacon  quaintly  terms  it,  "asking 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.      51 

questions  of  nature,"  that  is,  making  experiments, 
laboriously  collecting  facts  first,  and,  after  a  suffi- 
cient number  has  been  brought  together,  then  form- 
ing systems  or  theories  founded  on  them. 

But  this  work  is  rather  the  summary  of  a  more 
extensive  one  he  designed,  the  aphorisms  of  it  being 
rather,  according  to  Hallam,  "the  heads  or  theses 
of  chapters."  But  some  of  these  principles  are  of 
paramount  importance.  An  instance  may  be  afforded 
of  this,  extracted  from  the  "  Interpretation  of  Nature, 
and  Man's  dominion  over  it."  It  is  the  very  first  sen- 
tence in  the  Novum  Organum.  "  Man,  the  servant 
and  interpreter  of  nature,  can  only  understand  and 
act  in  proportion  as  he  observes  and  contemplates 
the  order  of  nature ;  more,  he  can  neither  know  nor 
do."  This,  as  has  justly  been  observed,  is  undoubt- 
edly the  foundation  of  all  our  real  knowledge. 

The  Novum  Organum  is  so  important,  that  we 
deem  it  desirable  to  present  some  more  detailed 
accounts  of  it. 

The  body  of  the  work  is  divided  into  two  parts ; 
the  former  of  which  is  intended  to  serve  as  an 
introduction  to  the  other,  a  preparation  of  the  mind 
for  receiving  the  doctrine. 

Bacon  begins  by  endeavoring  to  remove  the  pre- 
judices and  to  obtain  fair  attention  to  his  doctrine. 
He  compares  philosophy  to  "  a  vast  pyramid,  which 
ought  to  have  the  history  of  nature  for  its  basis ; " 
he  likens  those  who  strive  to  erect  by  the  force 
of  abstract  speculation  to  the  giants  of  old,  who, 


52  NOTICE  OF  FEANCIS  BACON. 

according  to  the  poets,  endeavored  to  throw  IMount 
Ossa  upon  Pelion,  and  Olympus  upon  Ossa.  The 
method  of  "  anticipating  nature,"  he  denounces  "  as 
rash,  hasty,  and  unphilosophical ; "  whereas,  "in- 
terpretations of  nature,  or  real  truths  arrived  at  by 
deduction,  cannot  so  suddenly  arrest  the  mind ;  and 
when  the  conclusion  actually  arrives,  it  may  so 
oppose  prejudice,  and  appear  so  paradoxical  as  to 
be  in  danger  of  not  being  received,  notwithstanding 
the  evidence  that  supports  it,  like  mysteries  of  faith." 

Bacon  first  attacks  the  "  Idols  of  the  Mind,"  i.  e. 
the  great  sources  of  prejudice,  then  the  different 
false  philosophical  theories ;  he  afterwards  proceeds 
to  show  what  are  the  characteristics  of  false  sys- 
tems, the  causes  of  error  in  philosophy,  and  lastly 
the  grounds  of  hope  regarding  the  advancement  of 
science. 

He  now  aspires,  to  use  his  own  language,  "  only 
to  sow  the  seeds  of  pure  truth  for  posterity,  and 
not  to  be  wanting  in  his  assistance  to  the  first 
beginning  of  great  undertakings."  "Let  the  hu- 
man race,"  says  he  further,  "regain  their  dominion 
over  nature,  which  belongs  to  them  by  the  bounty 
of  their  Maker,  and  right  reason  and  sound  religion 
will  direct  the  use." 

The  second  part  of  the  Novum  Organum  may  be 
divided  into  three  sections.  The  first  is  on  the 
discovery  of  forms,  i.  e.  causes  in  nature.  The 
second  section  is  composed  of  tables  illustrative  of 
the  inductive  method,  and  the  third  and  last  is 


KOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  53 

styled  the  doctrine  of  instances,  i.  e.  facts  regarding 
the  discovery  of  causes. 

Part  the  third  of  the  Instauratio  Magna  was 
to  be  a  Natural  History,  as  he  termed  it,  or  rather 
a  history  of  natural  substances,  in  which  the  art  of 
man  had  been  employed,  which  would  have  been 
a  history  of  universal  nature. 

Part  4,  to  be  called  Sjala  intellectus,  or  Intellec- 
tual Ladder,  was  intended  to  be,  to  use  his  own 
words,  "types  and  models  which  place  before  our 
eyes  the  entire  process  of  the  mind  in  the  discovery 
of  truth,  selecting  various  and  remarkable  instances." 

He  had  designed  in  the  fifth  part  to  give  speci- 
mens of  the  new  philosophy ;  a  few  fragments  only 
of  this  have  been  published.  It  was  to  be  "  the  frag- 
ment of  interest  till  the  principal   could  be  raised." 

The  sixth  and  last  part  was  "  to  display  a  perfect 
system  of  philosophy  deduced  and  confirmed  by  a 
legitimate,  sober,  and  exact  inquiry  according  to  the 
method  he  had  laid  down  and  invented."  "To 
perfect  this  last  part,"  says  Bacon,  "is  above  our 
powers  and  beyond  our  hopes." 

Let  us  return,  however,  for  a  moment  to  the 
commencement,  to  remark  that  he  concludes  the 
introduction  by  an  eloquent  prayer  that  his  exer- 
tions may  be  rendered  effectual  to  the  attainment 
of  truth  and  happiness.  But  he  feels  his  own  in- 
ability, for  "his  days  are  numbered,"  to  conduct 
mankind  to  the  hoped  for  goal.  It  was  given  to 
him  to  point  out  the  road  to  the  promised  land ;  but, 


54  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

like  Moses,  after  having  descried  it  from  afar,  it 
was  denied  him  to  enter  the  land  to  which  he  had 
led  the  way. 

LIFE  OF  HENRY  VII. 

The  Life  of  Henry  VII.  y  published  in  1622,  is,  in 
the  opinion  of  Hallam,  **the  first  instance  in  our 
language  of  the  application  of  pliilosophy  to  rea- 
soning on  public  events  in  the  manner  of  the  an- 
cients and  the  Italians.  Praise  upon  Henry  is  too 
largely  bestowed ;  but  it  was  in  the  nature  of  Bacon 
to  admire  too  much  a  crafty  and  selfish  policy ;  and 
he  thought  also,  no  doubt,  that  so  near  an  ancestor 
of  his  own  sovereign  should  not  be  treated  with 
severe  impartiality."  ^ 

LETTERS. 

His  Letters  published  in  his  works  are  numerous ; 
they  are  written  in  a  stiff,  ungraceful,  formal  style ; 
but  still,  they  frequently  bear  the  impress  of  the 
writer's  greatness  and  genius.  Fragments  of  them 
have  been  frequently  quoted  in  the  course  of  this 
notice ;  they  have,  perhaps,  best  served  to  exhibit 
more  fully  the  man  m  all  the  relations  of  his  public 
and  private  life. 

MISCELLANEOUS  PAPERS. 

Amongst  his  miscellaneous  papers  there  was  found 
after  his  death  a  remarkable  prayer,  which  Addison 

1  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe  in  the  15th,  16th,  and 
17th  centuries. 


NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON.  53 

deemed  sufficiently  beautiful  to  be  published  in  the 
Tatler^  for  Christmas,  1710.  We  extract  a  pas- 
sage or  two,  that  may  serve  to  illustrate  Bacon's 
position  or  his  character. 

"  I  have,  though  in  a  despised  weed,  procured  the  good  of 
all  men.  If  any  have  been  my  enemies,  I  thought  not  of 
tliem,  neither  hath  the  sun  almost  set  upon  my  displeasxxre ; 
but  I  have  been  as  a  dove,  free  from  superfluity  of  malicious- 
ness." 

"  Just  are  thy  judgments  upon  me  for  my  sins,  which  are 
more  in  number  than  the  sands  of  the  sea,  but  have  no  pro- 
portion to  thy  mercies  ;  for  what  are  the  sands  of  the  sea  ? 
Earth,  heaven,  and  all  these  are  nothing  to  thy  mercies." 

Addison  observes  of  this  prayer,  that  for  elevation 
of  thought  and  greatness  of  expression,  "  it  seems  — 
rather  the  devotion  of  an  angel  than  a  man." 

In  taking  leave  of  the  life  and  the  works  of  the 
greatest  of  philosophers,  and  alas !  the  least  of  men, 
we  have  endeavored  to  present  a  succinct  but  faithful 
narrative  —  "  his  glory  not  extenuated  wherein  he 
was  worthy,  nor  his  offences  enforced,  for  which  he 
suffered"  merited  obloquy  with  his  own  contempo- 
raries and  all  posterity.     Our  endeavor  has  been 

Verba  aninii  profeiTe  et  vitam  impendere  vero. 

But  his  failings,  great  as  they  were,  are  forgotten 
through  his  transcendent  merit ;  his  faults  injured 
but  few,  and  in  his  own  time  alone ;  his  genius  has 
benefited  all  mankind.  The  new  direction  he  gave  to 
philosophy  was  the  indirect  cause  of  all  the  modem 

1  No.  267. 


56  NOTICE  OF  FRANCIS  BACON. 

conquests  of  science  over  matter,  or,  as  it  were, 
over  nature.  What  it  has  already  accomplished, 
and  may  yet  effect  for  the  whole  human  race,  is 
incalculable.  Macaulay,  the  historian  of  England, 
has  been  likewise  the  eloquent  narrator  of  the  pro- 
gress, that  owes  its  origin  to  the  genius  of  Francis 
Bacon. 

"  Ask  a  follower  of  Bacon,"  says  Macaulay,  *'  what  the 
new  philosophy,  as  it  was  called  in  the  time  of  Charles  the 
Second,  has  effected  for  mankind,  and  his  answer  is  ready : 
*  It  hath  lengthened  life ;  it  has  mitigated  pain  ;  it  has  extin- 
guished diseases ;  it  has  increased  the  feitLlity  of  the  soil : 
it  has  given  new  securities  to  the  mariner;  it  has  furnished 
new  arms  to  the  warrior ;  it  has  spanned  great  rivers  and 
estuaries  with  hridges  of  fonn  unknown  to  our  fathers :  it 
has  guided  the  thunderbolt  innocuously  from  heaven  to  earth  ; 
it  has  lighted  up  the  night  with  the  splendor  of  the  day  ;  it 
has  extended  the  range  of  the  human  vision  ;  it  has  multiplied 
the  power  of  the  human  muscle ;  it  has  accelerated  motion  ;  it 
has  annihilated  distance ;  it  has  facilitated  intercourse,  corres- 
pondence, all  friendly  offices,  aU  dispatch  of  business  ;  it  has 
enabled  man  to  descend  to  the  depths  of  the  sea,  to  soar  into 
the  air,  to  penetrate  securely  into  the  noxious  recesses  of  the 
earth,  to  traverse  the  land  on  cars  which  whirl  along  without 
horses,  and  the  ocean  in  ships  which  sail  against  the  wind. 
These  are  but  a  part  of  its  fruits,  and  of  its  first-fruits.  For 
it  is  a  philosophy  which  never  rests,  which  has  never  attained, 
which  is  never  perfect.  Its  law  is  progress.  A  point  which 
yesterday  was  invisible  is  its  goal  to-day,  and  will  be  its 
starting-post  to-morrow.' "  ^ 

*  Essays. 


E  S  SAYS. 


>^i.- 


OF  TRUTH. 


What  is  truth  ?  said  jesting  Pilate  ;  ^  and  would 
not  stay  for  an  answer.  Certainly,  there  be  that 
delight  in  giddiness ;  and  count  it  a  bondage  to  fix 
a  belief;  affecting  freewill  in  thinking  as  well  as 
in  acting.  And  though  the  sects  of  philosophers  of 
that  kind  be  gone,  yet  there  remain  certain  dis- 
coursing wits  which  are  of  the  same  veins,  though 
there  be  not  so  much  blood  in  them  as  was  in  those 
of  the  ancients.  But  it  is  not  only  the  difficulty 
and  labor  which  men  take  in  finding  out  of  truth : 
nor  again,  that,  when  it  is  found,  it  imposeth  upon 
'  men's  thoughts,  that  doth  bring  lies  in  favor ;  ^ut, 
a  natural  though  corrupt  love  of  the  lie  itself. 
One  of  the  later  schools^  of  the  Grecians  examin- 

1  He  refers  to  the  following  passage  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John, 
iviii.  38:  "Pilate  saith  unto  him,  What  is  tmth  ?  And  when 
he  had  said  this,  he  went  out  again  unto  the  Jews,  and  saith 
unto  them,  I  find  in  him  no  fault  at  all." 

2  He  probably  refers  to  the  "New  Academy,"  a  sect  of  Greek 
philosophers,  one  of  whose  moot  questions  was,  "  What  is 
truth  ?  "  Upon  which  they  came  to  the  unsatisfactory  conclu- 
sion, that  mankind  has  no  criterion  by  which  to  form  a  judg- 
ment. 


58  ESSAYS. 

eth  the  matter,  and  is  at  a  stand  to  think  what 
should  be  in  it  that  men  should  love  lies;  where 
^either_they  make  for  pleasure,  as  with  poets ;  qot 
for  advantage,  as  with  the  merchant,  ^uj;  for  the 
lie's  sake.  But  I  cannot  tell ;  this  same  truth  is  a 
naked  and  open  daylight,  that  doth  not  show  the 
masks,  and  mummeries,  and  triumphs  of  the  world, 
half  so  stately  and  daintily  as  candle-lights.  Truth 
may  perhaps  come  to  the  price  of  a  pearl,  that 
showeth  best  byday^  but  it  will  not  rise  to  the 
price  of  a  diamond  or  carbuncle,  that  showeth  best 
in  varjed  lights.  A  mixture  of  a  lie  doth  ever  add 
pleasure.  Doth  any  man  doubt,  that  if  there  were 
taken  out  of  men's  minds  vain  opinions,  flattering 
hopes,  false  valuations,  imaginations  as  one  would, 
and  the  like,  but  it  would  leave  the  minds  of  a  num- 
ber of  men  poor  shrunken  things,  full  of  melancholy 
and  indisposition,  and  unpleasing  to  themselves? 
One  of  the  fathers,^  in  great  severity,  called  poesy 
"  vinum  dsemonum,"  ^  because  it  filleth  the  imagina- 
tion, and  yet  it  is  but  with  the  shadow  of  a  lie. 
But  it  is  not  the  lie  that  passeth  through  the  mind, 
but  the  lie  that  sinketh  in,  and  settlcth  in  it,  that 
doth  the  hurt,  such  as  we  spake  of  before.  But 
howsoever  these  things  are  thus  in  men's  depraved 
judgments  and  affections,  yet  truth,  which  only  doth 
judge   itself,   teacheth    that    the   inquiry  of    tmth, 

1  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  St.  Augustine.  —  See  Aug.  Con- 
fess, i.  25,  26. 

2  "The  wine  of  evil  spirits." 


OF  TRUTH.  59 

which  is  the  love-making,  or  wooing  of  it,  the  knowl- 
edge of  truth,  \£hicl}  is  the  presence  of  it,  and  the 
belief  of  truth,  which  is  the  enjoying  of  it,  is  the 
sovereign  good  of  human  nature.  The  first  creature 
of  God,  in  the  works  of  the  days,  was  the  light  of 
the  sense  ;  ^  the  last  was  the  light  of  reason  ;  *  and 
his  sabbath  work,  ever  since,  is  the  illumination  of 
his  Spirit.  First,  he  breathed  light  upon  the  face 
of  the  matter,  or  chaos ;  then  he  breathed  light  into 
the  face  of  man ;  and  still  he  breatheth  and  inspir- 
eth  light  into  the  face  of  his  chosen.  The  poet^ 
that  beautified  the  sect,^  that  was  otherwise  inferior 
to   the   rest,  saith  yet   excellently  well :    "  It   is   a 

1  Genesis  i.  3:  "And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light,  and  there 
was  light." 

2  At  the  moment  when  "  The  Lord  God  formed  man  out  of 
the  dust  of  the  gi-ound,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath 
of  life  ;  and  man  became  a  living  soul."  —  Genesis  ii.  7. 

2  Lucre*-,ius,  the  Roman  poet  and  Epicurean  philosopher,  i« 
alluded  to.  —  Lucret.  ii.  init.    Comp.  Adv.  of  Leamiiig,  i.  8,  5. 

*  He  refers  to  the  sect  which  followed  the  doctrines  of  Epicu- 
rus. The  life  of  Epicurus  himself  was  pure  and  abstemious  in 
the  extreme.  One  of  his  leading  tenets  was,  that  the  aim  of  all 
speculation  should  be  to  enable  men  to  judge  with  certainty 
what  course  is  to  be  chosen,  in  order  to  secure  health  of  body 
and  tranquillity  of  mind.  The  adoption,  however,  of  the  term 
"  pleasure,"  as  denoting  this  object,  has  at  all  periods  subjected 
the  Epicurean  system  to  great  reproach;  which,  in  fact,  is  due 
rather  to  the  conduct  of  many  who,  for  their  own  purposes,  have 
taken  shelter  imder  the  system  in  name  only,  than  to  the  tenets 
themselves,  which  did  not  inculcate  libertinism.  Epicurus 
admitted  the  existence  of  the  Gods,  but  he  deprived  them  of 
the  characteristics  of  Divinity,  either  as  creators  or  preservers 
of  the  world. 


60  ESSAYS. 

pleasure  to  stand  upon  the  shore,  and  to  see  ships 
tossed  upon  the  sea ;  a  pleasure  to  stand  in  the 
window  of  a  castle,  and  to  see  a  battle,  and  the 
adventures  thereof  below ;  but  no  pleasure  is  com- 
parable to  the  standing  upon  the  vantage-ground 
of  truth"  (a  hill  not  to  be  commanded,  and  where 
the  air  is  always  clear  and  serene),  "  and  to  see  the 
errors,  and  wanderings,  and  mists,  and  tempests,  in 
the  vale  below ; "  ^  so  always  that  this  prospect  be 
with  pity,  and  not  with  swelling  or  pride.  Certainly 
it  is  heaven  upon  earth,  to  have  a  man's  mind  move 
in  charity,  rest  in  providence,  and  turn  upon  the 
poles  of  truth. 

To  pass  from  theological  and  philosophical  truth 
to  the  truth  of  civil  business ;  it  will  be  acknowl- 
edged, even  by  those  that  practise  it  not,  that  clear 
and  round  dealing  is  the  honor  of  man's  nature, 
and  that  mixture  of  falsehood  is  like  alloy  in  coin 

1  Lord  Bacon  has  either  translated  this  passage  of  Lucretius 
from  memory  or  has  pui-posely  paraphrased  it.  The  following 
is  the  literal  translation  of  the  original:  "'Tis  a  pleasant  thing, 
from  the  shore,  to  behold  the  dangers  of  another  upon  the  mighty 
ocean,  when  the  winds  are  lashing  the  main  ;  not  because  it  is  a 
grateful  pleasure  for  any  one  to  be  in  misery,  but  because  it  is 
a  pleasant  thing  to  see  those  misfortunes  from  which  you  your- 
self are  free  :  'tis  also  a  pleasant  thing  to  behold  the  mighty 
contests  of  warfare,  arrayed  upon  the  plains,  without  a  share  in 
the  danger  ;  but  nothing  is  there  more  delightful  than  to  occupy 
the  elevated  temples  of  the  wise,  well  fortified  by  tranquil  learn- 
ing, whence  you  may  be  able  to  look  down  upon  others,  and  see 
them  straying  in  every  direction,  and  wandering  in  search  of  the 
path  of  life." 


OP  TRUTH.  61 

of  gold  and  silver,  which  may  make  the  metal 
work  the  better,  but  it  embaseth  it.  For  these 
winding  and  crooked  courses  are  the  goings  of  the 
serpent ;  which  goeth  basely  upon  the  belly,  and 
not  upon  the  feet.  There  is  no  vice  that  doth  so 
cover  a  man  with  shame,  as  to  be  found  false  and 
perfidious ;  and  therefore  Montaigne  ^  saith  prettily, 
when  he  inquired  the  reason  why  the  word  of  the 
lie  should  be  such  a  disgrace,  and  such  an  odious 
charge:  saith  he,  "If  it  be  well  weighed,  to  say 
that  a  man  lieth,  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  he  is 
/^  brave  towards  God  and  a  coward  towards  men.  \ 
^  For  a  lie  faces  God,  and  shrinks  from  man  ;  "  sure- / 
ly,  the  wickedness  of  falsehood  and  breach  of  faith 
cannot  possibly  be  so  highly  expressed,  as  in  that  it 
shall  be  the  last  peal  to  call  the  judgments  of  God 
upon  the  generations  of  men :  it  being  foretold, 
that,  when  "  Christ  cometh,"  he  shall  not  "  find 
faith  upon  the  earth."  ^ 

^  Michael  de  Montaigne,  the  celebrated  French  Essayist.  His 
Essays  embrace  a  variety  of  topics,  which  are  treated  in  a 
sprightly  and  entertaining  manner,  and  are  replete  with  remarks 
indicative  of  strong  native  good  sense.  He  died  in  1592.  The  fol- 
lowing quotation  is  from  the  second  book  of  the  Essays,  c.  18  :  "  Ly- 
ing is  a  disgraceful  vice,  and  one  that  Plutarch,  an  ancient  writer, 
paints  in  most  disgraceful  colors,  when  he  says  that  it  is  '  affording 
testimony  that  one  first  despises  God,  and  then  fears  men  ; '  it  is 
not  possible  more  happily  to  describe  its  horrible,  disgusting,  and 
abandoned  nature  ;  for,  can  we  imagine  anything  more  vile  than 
to  be  cowards  with  regard  to  men,  and  brave  with  regard  to  God  ?" 

2  St.  Luke  xviii.  8  :  "  Nevertheless,  when  the  Son  of  man  com- 
eth, shall  he  find  faith  upon  the  earth  ? " 


62  ESSAYS. 

ML— OF  DEATH.1 

Men  fear  death  as  children  fear  to  go  in  the  dark ; 
and  as  that  natural  fear  in  children  is  increased  with 
tales,  so  is  the  other.  Certainly,  the  contemplation 
of  death,  as  the  wages  of  sin,  and  passage  to  another 
world,  is  holy  and  religious ;  but  the  fear  of  it,  as 
a  tribute  due  unto  nature,  is  weak.  Yet  in  religious 
meditations  there  is  sometimes  mixture  of  vanity  and 
of  superstition.  You  shall  read  in  some  of  the  friars' 
books  of  mortification,  that  a  man  should  think  with 
himself,  what  the  pain  is,  if  he  have  but  his  finger's 
end  pressed  or  tortured ;  and  thereby  imagine  what 
the  pains  of  death  are,  when  the  whole  body  is  cor- 
rupted and  dissolved ;  when  many  times  death  passcth 
with  less  pain  than  the  torture  of  a  limb,  for  the 
most  vital  parts  are  not  the  quickest  of  sense.  And 
by  him  that  spake  only  as  a  philosopher  and  natural 
man,  it  was  well  said,  "  Pompa  mortis  magis  tcrret, 
quam  mors  ipsa."^  Groans  and  convulsions,  and  a 
discolored  face,  and  friends  weeping,  and  blacks^ 
and  obsequies,  and  the  like,  show  death  terrible. 
It  is  worthy  the  observing,  that  there  is  no  passion 

^  A  portion  of  this  Essay  is  borrowed  from  the  writings  of 
Seneca.     See  his  Letters  to  Ludliiis,  B.  iv.  Ep.  24  and  82. 

2  "  The  array  of  the  death-bed  has  more  terrors  than  death 
itself."     This  quotation  is  from  Seneca. 

8  He  probably  alludes  to  the  custom  of  hanging  the  room  in 
black  where  the  body  of  the  deceased  lay,  a  practice  much  more 
usual  in  Bacon's  time  than  at  the  present  day. 


OF  DEATH.  63 

in  the  mind  of  man  so  weak,  but  it  mates  and  mas- 
ters the  fear  of  death;  and  therefore  death  is  no 
such  terrible  enemy  when  a  man  hath  so  many  at- 
tendants about  him  that  can  win  the  combat  of  him. 
Revenge  triumphs  over  death ;  love  slights  it ;  honor 
aspireth  to  it;  grief  flieth  to  it;  fear  preoccupateth 
it ;  nay,  we  read,  after  Otho  the  emperor  had  slain 
himself,  pity  (which  is  the  tenderest  of  affections) 
provoked  many  to  die  out  of  mere  compassion  to 
their  sovereign,  and  as  the  truest  sort  of  followers.^ 
Nay,  Seneca  ^  adds  niceness  and  satiety :  "  Cogita 
quamdiu  eadem  feceris ;  mori  velle,  non  tantum  for- 
tis,  aut  miser,  sed  etiam  fastidiosus  potest."^  A 
man  would  die,  though  he  were  neither  valiant  nor 
miserable,  only  upon  a  weariness  to  do  the  same 
thing  so  oft  over  and  over.  It  is  no  less  worthy  to 
observe,  how  little  alteration  in  good  spirits  the  ap- 
proaches of  death  make :  for  they  appear  to  be  the 
same  men  till  the  last  instant.  Augustus  Caesar 
died  in  a  compliment :  "  Livia,  conjugii  nostri  memor, 
vive  et  vale."  *  Tiberius  in  dissimulation,  as  Tacitus 
saith  of  him,  "Jam  Tiberium  vires  et  corpus,  non 
dissimulatio,  deserebant :  "^  Vespasian  in  a  jest,  sitting 

1  Tacit,  Hist,  ii.  49. 

2  Ad  Lucil.  77. 

3  "Reflect  how  often  you  do  the  same  things;  a  man  may 
wish  to  die,  not  only  because  either  he  is  brave  or  wretched,  but 
even  because  he  is  surfeited  with  life." 

*  "Livia,  mindful  of  our  union,  live  on,  and  fare  thee  well."  — 
Suet.  Aitg.  Vit.  c.  100. 

5  "His  bodily  strength  and  vitality  were  now  forsaking  Tibe- 
rius, but  not  his  duplicity."  —  Ann.  vi.  50. 


64  ESSAYS. 

upon  the  stooV  ''Ut  puto  Deus  fio;"^  Galba  with 
a  sentence,  "  Feri,  si  ex  re  sit  populi  Romani,"  ^ 
holding  forth  his  neck ;  Septimus  Severus  in  dis- 
patch, "  Adeste,  si  quid  mihi  restat  agendum,"  ^  and 
the  like.  Certainly,  the  Stoics  ^  bestowed  too  much 
cost  upon  death,  and  by  their  great  preparations 
made  it  appear  more  fearful.  Better,  saith  he,  "  qui 
finem  vitse  extremum  inter  munera  ponit  naturae."  ^ 
It  is  as  natural  to  die  as  to  be  born ;  and  to  a  little 
infant,  perhaps,  the  one  is  as  painful  as  the  other. 
He  that  dies  in  an  earnest  pursuit,  is  like  one  that 

1  This  was  said  as  a  reproof  to  his  flatterers,  and  in  spirit  is 
not  unlike  the  rebuke  administered  by  Canute  to  his  retinue.  — 
Siiet.  Vespas.  Vit.  c.  23. 

2  "  I  am  become  a  Divinity,  I  suppose." 

8  "  If  it  be  for  the  advantage  of  the  Eoman  people,  strike."  — 
Tac.  Hist.  i.  41. 

*  "If  aught  remains  to  be  done  by  me,  dispatch.  —  Dio  Cass, 
76,  ad  fin. 

^  These  were  the  foUow^ers  of  Zeno,  a  philosopher  of  Citium, 
in  Cyprus,  who  founded  the  Stoic  school,  or  "  School  of  the 
Portico,"  at  Athens.  The  basis  of  his  doctrines  was  the  duty  of 
making  virtue  the  object  of  all  our  researches.  According  to 
him,  the  pleasures  of  the  mind  were  preferable  to  those  of  the 
body,  and  his  disciples  were  taught  to  view  with  indifference 
health  or  sickness,  riches  or  poverty,  pain  or  pleasure. 

*  "Whq  reckons  the  close  of  his  life  among  the  boons  of 
nature."  Lord  Bacon  here  quotes  from  memory  ;  the  passage 
is  in  the  tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal,  and  runs  thus  :  — 

"  Fortem  posce  animum,  mortis  terrore  carentem, 
Qui  spatium  vitae  extremum  inter  munera  ponat 
Naturae  "  — 

"Pray  for  strong  resolve,  void  of  the  fear  of  death,  that  reckons 
the  closing  period  of  life  among  the  boons  of  nature." 


OF  UNITY  IN  RELIGION.  65 

is  wounded  in  hot  blood,  who,  for  the  time,  scarce 
feels  the  hurt ;  and  therefore  a  mind  fixed  and  bent 
upon  somewhat  that  is  good,  doth  avert  the  dolors 
'  of  death ;  but,  above  all,  believe  it,  the  sweetest 
canticle  is  "  Nunc  dimittis,"  ^  when  a  man  hath  ob- 
tained worthy  ends  and  expectations.  Death  hath 
this  also,  that  it  openeth  the  gate  to  good  fame,  and 
extinguisheth  envy  :  "  Extinctus  amabitur  idem."  ^ 


III.— OF  UNITY  IN  RELIGION. 

Religion  being  the  chief  band  of  human  society, 
it  is  a  happy  thing  when  itself  is  well  contained 
within  the  true  band  of  unity.  The  quarrels  and 
divisions  about  religion  were  evils  unknown  to  the 
heathen.  The  reason  was,  because  the  religion  of 
the  heathen  consisted  rather  in  rites  and  ceremo- 
nies, than  in  any  constant  belief;  for  you  may  im- 
agine what  kind  of  faith  theirs  was,  when  the  chief 
doctors  and  fathers  of  their  church  were  the  poets. 

^  He  alludes  to  the  song  of  Simeon,  to  whom  the  Holy  Ghost 
had  revealed,  "that  he  should  not  see  death  before  he  had  seen 
the  Lord's  Christ."  When  he  beheld  the  infant  Jesus  in  the 
temple,  he  took  the  child  in  his  arms  and  burst  forth  into  a  song 
of  thanksgiving,  commencing,  "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  ser- 
vant depart  in  peace,  according  to  thy  word,  for  mine  eyes  have 
seen  thy  salvation." —  St.  Luke  ii.  29. 

^  "When  dead,  the  same  person  shall  be  beloved."  —  Hor.  Ep. 
ii.  1,  14. 

5 


66  ESSAYS. 

But  the  true  God  hath  this  attribute,  that  he  is  a 
jealous  God ;  and  therefore  his  worship  and  religion 
wiU  endure  no  mixture  nor  partner.  We  shall  there- 
fore speak  a  few  words  concerning  the  unity  of  the 
church;  what  are  the  fruits  thereof;  what  the 
bounds;   and  what  the  means. 

The  fruits  of  unity  (next  unto  the  well-pleasing 
of  God,  which  is  all  in  all),  are  two;  the  one  to- 
wards those  that  are  without  the  church,  the  other 
towards  those  that  are  within.  For  the  former,  it 
is  certain  that  heresies  and  schisms  are,  of  aU  others, 
the  greatest  scandals,  yea,  more  than  corruption  of 
manners ;  for  as  in  the  natural  body  a  wound  or 
solution  of  continuity  is  worse  than  a  corrupt  hu- 
mor, so  in  the  spiritual;  so  that  nothing  doth  so 
much  keep  men  out  of  the  church,  and  drive  men 
out  of  the  church,  as  breach  of  unity;  and  there- 
fore, whensoever  it  cometh  to  that  pass  that  one 
saith,  "Ecce  in  Deserto,"^  another  saith,  "Ecce  in 
penetralibus ; "  ^  that  is,  when  some  men  seek  Christ 
in  the  conventicles  of  heretics,  and  others  in  an 
outward  face  of  a  church,  that  voice  had  need  con- 
tinually to  sound  in  men's  ears,  "  nolite  exire,"  "  go 
not  out."  The  doctor  of  the  Gentiles  (the  propriety 
of  whose  vocation  drew  him  to  have  a  special  care 
of    those    without)    saith :    "  If  a   heathen  ^   come 

^  "Behold,  he  is  in  the  desert."  —  St.  Matthew  xxiv.  26. 
2  "Behold,  he  is  in  the  secret  chambers." — lb. 
*  He  alludes  to  1  Corinthians  xiv.  23  :  "  If,  therefore,  the  whole 
church   be  come   together  into   one    place,    and   all   speak   with 


OF  UNITY  IN  RELIGION.  67 

in,  and  hear  you  speak  with  several  tongues,  will 
he  not  say  that  you  are  mad?"  and,  certainly,  it 
is  little  better:  when  atheists  and  profane  persons 
do  hear  of  so  many  discordant  and  contrary  opinions 
in  religion,  it  doth  avert  them  from  the  church,  and 
maketh  them  "to  sit  down  in  the  chair  of  the 
scorners."  ^  It  is  but  a  light  thing  to  be  vouched 
in  so  serious  a  matter,  but  yet  it  expresseth  well  the 
deformity.  There  is  a  master  of  scoffing,  that,  in 
his  catalogue  of  books  of  a  feigned  library,  sets  down 
this  title  of  a  book,  "  The  Morris-Dance  ^  of  Here- 
tics ; "  for,  indeed,  every  sect  of  them  hath  a  diverse 
posture,  or  cringe,  by  themselves,  which  cannot  but 
move  derision  in  worldlings  and  depraved  politicians, 
who  are  apt  to  contemn  holy  things. 

As  for  the  fruit  towards  those  that  are  within, 
it  is  peace,  which  containeth  infinite  blessings ;  it 
establisheth  faith ;  it  kindleth  charity ;  the  outward 

tongues,  and  there  come  in  those  that  are  unlearned,  or  unbelievers, 
will  tliey  not  say  that  ye  are  mad  ? " 

1  Psalm  i.  1  :  "Blessed  is  the  man  that  vvalketh  not  in  the 
counsel  of  the  ungodly,  nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners,  nor 
sitteth  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful." 

^  This  dance,  which  was  originally  called  the  Morisco  dance 
is  supposed  to  have  been  derived  from  the  Moors  of  Spain  ;  the 
dancers  in  earlier  times  blackening  their  faces  to  resemble  Moors. 
It  was  probably  a  corruption  of  the  ancient  Pyrrhic  dance,  which 
was  performed  by  men  in  annor,  and  which  is  mentioned  as  still 
existing  in  Greece,  in  Byron's  "  Song  of  the  Greek  Captive  : "  — 
"Yon  have  the  Pyrrhic  dance  as  yet." 

Attitude  and  gesture  formed  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  dance. 
It  is  still  practised  in  some  parts  of  England.  —  Rabelais,  Pantag. 
ii.   7. 


68  ESSAYS. 

peace  of  the  church  distilleth  into  peace  of  con- 
science, and  it  turneth  the  labors  of  writing  and 
reading  of  controversies  into  treatises  of  mortifica- 
tion and  devotion. 

Concerning  the  bounds  of  unity,  the  true  placing 
of  them  importeth  exceedingly.  There  appear  to 
be  two  extremes;  for  to  certain  zealots  all  speech 
of  pacification  is  odious.  "  Is  it  peace,  Jehu  ?  "  — 
"  What  hast  thou  to  do  with  peace  ?  turn  thee  be- 
hind me."  ^  Peace  is  not  the  matter,  but  following, 
and  party.  Contrariwise,  certain  Laodiceans^  and 
lukewarm  persons  think  they  may  accommodate 
points  of  religion  by  middle  ways,  and  taking  part 
of  both,  and  witty  reconcilements,  as  if  they  woidd 
make  an  arbitrament  between  God  and  man.  Both 
these  extremes  are  to  be  avoided;  which  will  be 
done  if  the  league  of  Christians,  penned  by  our 
Saviour  himself,  were  in  the  two  cross  clauses 
thereof  soundly  and  plainly  expounded :  "  He  that 
is  not  with  us  is  against  us ; "  ^  and  again,  "  He 
that  is  not  against  us,  is  with  us ; "  that  is,  if  the 
points  fundamental,  and  of  substance  in  religion, 

1  2  Kings  ix.  18. 

2  He  alludes  to  the  words  in  Revelation,  c.  iii.  v.  14,  15,  16: 
*'  And  unto  the  angel  of  the  church  of  the  Laodiceans  write  ;  These 
things  saith  the  Amen,  the  faitliful  and  true  Witness,  the  begin- 
ning of  the  creation  of  God  ;  I  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art 
neither  cold  nor  hot.  — I  will  spue  thee  out  of  my  mouth."  Lao- 
dicea  was  a  city  of  Asia  Minor.  St.  Paul  established  the  church 
there  which  is  here  referred  to. 

8  St.  Matthew  xii.  30. 


OF  UNITY  IN  RELIGION.  69 

were  truly  discerned  and  distinguished  from  points 
not  merely  of  faith,  but  of  opinion,  order,  or  good 
intention.  This  is  a  thing  may  seem  to  many  a 
matter  trivial,  and  done  already;  but  if  it  were 
done  less  partially,  it  would  be  embraced  more 
generally. 

Of  this  I  may  give  only  this  advice,  according  to 
my  small  model.  Men  ought  to  take  heed  of  rend- 
ing God's  church  by  two  kinds  of  controversies ;  the 
one  is,  when  the  matter  of  the  point  controverted 
is  too  small  and  light,  not  worth  the  heat  and  strife 
about  it,  kindled  only  by  contradiction;  for,  as  it 
is  noted  by  one  of  the  fathers,  "  Christ's  coat  indeed 
had  no  seam,  but  the  church's  vesture  was  of  divers 
colors ; "  whereupon  he  saith,  "  In  veste  varietas  sit, 
scissura  non  sit," ^  they  be  two  things,  unity  and 
uniformity;  the  other  is,  when  the  matter  of  the 
point  controverted  is  great,  but  it  is  driven  to  an 
over-great  subtilty  and  obscurity,  so  that  it  becometh 
a  thing  rather  ingenious  than  substantial.  A  man 
that  is  of  judgment  and  understanding  shall  some- 
times hear  ignorant  men  differ,  and  know  well  within 
himself,  that  those  which  so  differ  mean  one  thing, 
and  yet  they  themselves  would  never  agree ;  and  if 
it  come  so  to  pass  in  that  distance  of  judgment, 
which  is  between  man  and  man,  shall  we  not  think 
that  God  above,  that  knows  the  heart,  doth  not  dis- 
cern that  frail  men,  in  some  of  their  contradictions, 

1  "  In  the  garment  there  may  be  many  colors,  but  let  there  be 
no  rending  of  it." 


70  »  ESSAYS. 

intend  the  same  thing,  and  accepteth  of  both  ?  The 
nature  of  such  controversies  is  excellently  expressed 
by  St.  Paul,  in  the  warning  and  precept  that  he 
giveth  concerning  the  same :  "  Devita  profanas  vo- 
cum  novitates,  et  oppositiones  falsi  nominis  scientise."  ^ 
Men  create  oppositions  which  are  not,  and  put  them 
into  new  terms,  so  fixed  as,  whereas  the  meaning 
ought  to  govern  the  term,  the  term  in  effect  govern- 
eth  the  meaning.  There  be  also  two  false  peaces,  or 
unities ;  the  one,  when  the  peace  is  grounded  but 
upon  an  implicit  ignorance ;  for  all  colors  will  agree 
in  the  dark ;  the  other,  when  it  is  pieced  up  upon 
a  direct  admission  of  contraries  in  fundamental 
points;  for  truth  and  falsehood,  in  such  things,  are 
like  the  iron  and  clay  in  the  toes  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar's image ;  ^  they  may  cleave,  but  they  will  not 
incorporate. 

Concerning  the  means  of  procuring  unity,  men 
must  beware  that,  in  the  procuring  or  muniting  of 
religious  unity,  they  do  not  dissolve  and  deface  the 
laws  of  charity  and  of  human  society.  There  be 
two  swords  amongst  Christians,  the  spiritual  and 
temporal,  and  both  have  their  due  office  and  place 
in  the  maintenance  of  religion ;  but  we  may  not 
take  up  the  third  sword,  which  is  Mahomet's  sword,* 

1  "  Avoid  profane  and  vain  babblings,  and  oppositions  of  science, 
falsely  so  called."  —  1  Tim.  vi.  20. 

2  He  alludes  to  the  dream  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  significant  of  the 
limited  duration  of  his  kingdom.  —  See  Daniel  ii.  33,  41. 

8  Mahomet  proselytized  by  giving  to  the  nations  which  he  con- 
quered, the  option  of  the  Koran  or  the  sword. 


OF  UNITY  IN  RELIGION.  *        71 

or  like  unto  it;  that  is,  to  propagate  religion  by 
wars,  or,  by  sanguinary  persecutions,  to  force  con- 
sciences; except  it  be  in  cases  of  overt  scandal, 
blasphemy,  or  intermixture  of  practice  against  the 
state ;  much  less  to  nourish  seditions,  to  authorize 
conspiracies  and  rebellions,  to  put  the  sword  into 
the  people's  hands,  and  the  like,  tending  to  the  sub- 
version of  all  government,  which  is  the  ordinance  of 
God ;  for  this  is  but  to  dash  the  first  table  against 
the  second,  and  so  to  consider  men  as  Christians,  as 
we  forget  that  they  are  men.  Lucretius  the  poet, 
when  he  beheld  the  act  of  Agamemnon,  that  could 
endure  the  sacrificing  of  his  own  daughter,  ex- 
claimed ;  — 

"  Tantum  religio  potuit  suadere  malorum."  * 

What  would  he  have  said,  if  he  had  known  of 
the  massacre  in  France,^  or  the  powder  treason  of 
England  ?  ^  He  would  have  been  seven  times  more 
epicure  and  atheist  than  he  was ;  for  as  the  tempo- 

^  "  To  deeds  so  dreadful  could  religion  prompt."  The  poet  refers 
to  the  sacrifice  hy  Agamemnon,  the  Grecian  leader,  of  his  daughter 
Iphigenia,  with  the  view  of  appeasing  the  wrath  of  Diana.  — 
Lucret.  i.  96. 

2  He  alludes  to  the  massacre  of  the  Huguenots,  or  Protestants, 
in  France,  which  took  place  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  August 
24,  1572,  by  the  order  of  Charles  IX.  and  his  mother,  Catherine 
de  Medici.  On  this  occasion  about  60,000  persons  perished, 
including  the  Admiral  De  Coligny,  one  of  the  most  virtuous 
men  that  France  possessed,  and  the  main  stay  of  the  Protestant 
cause. 

8  More  generally  known  as  "  The  Gunpowder  Plot." 


72  ESSAYS. 

ml  sword  is  to  be  drawn  with  great  circumspection 
in  cases  of  religion,  so  it  is  a  thing  monstrous  to 
put  it  into  the  hands  of  the  common  people ;  let 
that  be  left  unto  the  Anabaptists,  and  other  furies. 
It  was  great  blasphemy  when  the  devil  said,  "I 
will  ascend  and  be  like  the  Highest ; "  ^  but  it  is 
greater  blasphemy  to  personate  God,  and  bring  him 
in  saying,  "  I  will  descend,  and  be  like  the  prince 
of  darkness ; "  and  what  is  it  better,  to  make  the 
cause  of  religion  to  descend  to  the  cruel  and  exe- 
crable actions  of  murdering  princes,  butchery  of 
people,  and  subversion  of  states  and  governments? 
Surely,  this  is  to  bring  down  the  Holy  Ghost,  in- 
stead of  the  likeness  of  a  dove,  in  the  shape  of  a 
vulture  or  raven ;  and  to  set  out  of  the  bark  of  a 
Christian  church  a  flag  of  a  bark  of  pirates  and 
assassins;  therefore,  it  is  most  necessary  that  the 
church  by  doctrine  and  decree,  princes  by  their 
sword,  and  all  learnings,  both  Christian  and  moral, 
as  by  their  Mercury  rod,^  do  damn  and  send  to  hell 
forever  those  facts  and  opinions  tending  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  same,  as  hath  been  already  in  good 
part  done.  Surely,  in  counsels  concerning  religion, 
that  counsel  of  the  apostle  would  be  prefixed :  "  Ira 
hominis  non  implet  justitiam  Dei ; "  ^  and  it  was 

1  Isa.  xiv.  14. 

2  Allusion  is  made  to  the  "  caduceus,"  with  which  Mercury, 
the  messenger  of  the  Gods,  summoned  the  souls  of  the  departed 
to  the  infernal  regions. 

'  "  The  wrath  of  man  worketh  not  the  righteousness  of  God." 
—  Jamea  i.  20. 


OF  REVENGE.  73 

a  notable  observation  of  a  wise  father,  and  no 
less  ingenuously  confessed,  that  those  which  held 
and  persuaded  pressure  of  consciences,  were  com- 
monly interested  therein  themselves  for  their  own 
ends. 


TV.  — OF  REVENGE. 

Revenge  is  a  kind  of  wild  justice,  which  the 
more  man's  nature  runs  to,  the  more  ought  law  to 
weed  it  out ;  for  as  for  the  first  wrong,  it  doth  but 
offend  the  law,  but  the  revenge  of  that  wrong,  put- 
yteth  the  law  out  of  office.  Certainly,  in  taking  \ 
/revenge,  a  man  is  but  even  with  his  enemy,  but  in  / 
I  passing  it  over,  he  is  superior;  for  it  is  a  prince's/ 
part  to  pardon;  and  Solomon,  I  am  sure,  saith,  "  It 
is  the  glory  of  a  man  to  pass  by  an  offence."  That 
which  is  past  is  gone  and  irrevocable,  and  wise  men 
have  enough  to  do  with  things  present  and  to  come ; 
therefore  they  do  but  trifle  with  themselves  that 
labor  in  past  matters.  There  is  no  man  doth  a 
wrong  for  the  wrong's  sake,  but  thereby  to  purchase 
himself  profit,  or  pleasure,  or  honor,  or  the  like; 
therefore,  why  should  I  be  angry  with  a  man  for 
loving  himself  better  than  me?  And  if  any  man 
should  do  wrong  merely  out  of  ill-nature,  why,  yet 
it  is  but  like  the  thorn  or  briar,  which  prick  and 
scratch,  because  they  can  do  no  other.  The  most 
tolerable  sort  of  revenge  is  for  those  wrongs  which 


74  ^  ESSAYS. 

there  is  no  law  to  remedy ;  but  then,  let  a  man  take 
heed  the  revenge  be  such  as  there  is  no  law  to 
punish,  else  a  man's  enemy  is  still  beforehand,  and 
it  is  two  for  one.  Some,  when  they  take  revenge, 
are  desirous  the  party  should  know  whence  it  Com- 
eth. This  is  the  more  generous;  for  the  delight 
seemeth  to  be  not  so  much  in  doing  the  hurt  as 
in  making  the  party  repent;  but  base  and  cmfty 
cowards  are  like  the  arrow  that  flieth  in  the  dark. 
Cosmus,  Duke  of  Florence,^  had  a  desperate  saying 
against  perfidious  or  neglecting  friends,  as  if  those 
wrongs  were  unpardonable.  "  You  shall  read,"  saith 
he,  "  that  we  are  commanded  to  forgive  our  enemies ; 
but  you  never  read  that  we  are  commanded  to  for- 
give our  friends."  But  yet  the  spirit  of  Job  was 
in  a  better  tune :  "  Shall  we,"  saith  he,  "  take  good 
at  God's  hands,  and  not  be  content  to  take  evil 
also  ?  "  2  and  so  of  friends  in  a  proportion.  This  is 
certain,  that  a  man  that  studieth  revenge  keeps  his 
own  wounds  green,  which  otherwise  would  heal 
.and  do  well.  Public  revenges^  are  for  the  most/ 
part  fortmiate;  as  that  for  the  death  of  Ca3sar;* 

1  He  alludes  to  Cosmo  de  Medici,  or  Cosmo  I.,  chief  of  the  Re- 
public of  Florence,  the  encourager  of  literature  and  the  fine  arts. 

2  Job  ii.  10.  —  "Shall  we  receive  good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and 
shall  we  not  receive  evil  ? " 

*  By  "public  revenges,"  he  means  punishment  awarded  by  the 
state  with  the  sanction  of  the  laws. 

*  He  alludes  to  the  retribution  dealt  by  Augustus  and  Anthony 
to  the  murderers  of  Julius  Csesar.  It  is  related  by  ancient  his- 
torians, as  a  singular  fact,  that  not  one  of  them  died  a  natural 
death. 


OF  ADVERSITY.  75 

for  the  death  of  Pertinax ;  for  the  death  of  Henry 
the  Third  of  France;^  and  many  more.  But  in 
private  revenges  it  is  not  so ;  nay,  rather,  vindictive 
persons  live  the  life  of  witches,  who,  as  they  are 
mischievous,  so  end  they  unfortunate. 


y: 


v.  — OF  ADVERSITY. 

It  was  a  high  speech  of  Seneca  (after  the  man- 
ner of  the  Stoics),  that  "the  good  things  which 
belong  to  prosperity  are  to  be  wished,  but  the  good 
things  that  belong  to  adversity  are  to  be  admired." 
("  Bona  rerum  secundarum  optabilia,  adversarum 
mirabilia.")  ^  Certainly,  if  miracles  be  the  com- 
mand over  nature,  they  appear  most  in  adversity. 
It  is  yet  a  higher  speech  of  his  than  the  other 
(much  too  high  for  a  heathen),  "  It  is  true  greatness 
to  have  in  one  the  frailty  of  a  man,  and  the  security 
of  a  God."  ("Vere  magnum  habere  fragilitatem 
hominis  securitatem  Dei.")  ^    This  would  have  done 

^  Henry  III.  of  France  was  assassinated  in  1599,  by  Jacques 
Clement,  a  Jacobin  monk,  in  the  frenzy  of  fanaticism.  Although 
Clement  justly  suffered  punishment,  the  end  of  this  bloodthirsty 
and  bigoted  tyrant  may  be  justly  deemed  a  retribution  dealt  by 
the  hand  of  an  offended  Providence  ;  so  truly  does  the  Poet 
say  :  — 

"neque  enim  lex  aequior  ulla 
Quam  necis  artifices  arte  perire  sua." 

2  Sen.  Ad  Lucil.  66.  «  Ibid.  63. 


76  ESSAYS. 

better  in  poesy,  where  transcendencies  are  more 
allowed,  and  the  poets,  indeed,  have  been  busy  with 
it ;  for  it  is,  in  effect,  the  thing  which  is  figured  in  that 
strange  fiction  of  the  ancient  poets,^  which  seemeth 
not  to  be  without  mystery;  nay,  and  to  have  some 
approach  to  the  state  of  a  Christian,  "  that  Hercules, 
when  he  went  to  unbind  Prometheus  (by  whom 
human  nature  is  represented),  sailed  the  length  of 
the  great  ocean  in  an  earthen  pot  or  pitcher,"  lively 
describing  Christian  resolution,  that  saileth  in  the 
frail_bark  of  the  fle^h  through  the  waves  of  the 
world.  But  to  speak  in  a  mean,  the  virtue  of 
prosperity  is  temperance,  the  virtue  of  adversity  is 
fortitude,  which  in  morals  is  the  more  heroical  virtue.> 
Prosperity  is  the  blessing  of  the  Old  Testament, 
adversity  is  the  blessing  of  the  New,  which  carrieth^ 
the  greater  benediction,  and  the  clearer  revelation 
of  God's  favor.  Yet  even  in  the  Old  Testament, 
if  you  listen  to  David's  harp,  you  shall  hear  as  many 
hearse-like  airs  ^  as  carols ;  and  the  pencil  of  the 

*  Stesichorus,  Apollodorus,  and  others.  Lord  Bacon  makes  a 
similar  reference  to  this  myth  in  his  treatise  "On  the  Wisdom  of 
the  Ancients."  "It  is  added  with  great  elegance,  to  console  and 
strengthen  the  minds  of  men,  that  this  mighty  hero  (Hercules) 
sailed  in  a  cup  or  '  urceus,'  in  order  that  thej'  may  not  too  much 
fear  and  allege  the  narrowness  of  their  nature  and  its  frailty  ; 
as  if  it  were  not  capable  of  such  fortitude  and  constancy  ;  of  which 
very  thing  Seneca  argued  well,  when  he  said,  *  It  is  a  great  thing 
to  have  at  the  same  time  the  frailty  of  a  man,  and  the  security 
of  a  God.  * " 

2  Funereal  airs.  It  must  be  remembered  that  many  of  the 
Psalms  of  David  were  written  by  him  when  persecuted  by  Saul, 


OF  ADVERSITY.  77 

Holy  Ghost  hath  labored  more  in  describing  the 
afflictions  of  Job  than  the  felicities  of  Solomon. 
Prosperity  is  not  without  many  fears  and  distastes ; 
and  adversity  is  not  without  comforts  and  hopes. 
We  see,  in  needleworks  and  embroideries,  it  is  more 
pleasing  to  have  a  lively  work  upon  a  sad  and 
solemn  ground,  than  to  have  a  dark  and  melancholy 
work  upon  a  lightsome  ground:  judge,  therefore, 
of  the  pleasure  of  the  heart  by  the  pleasure  of  the 
eye.  Certainly,  virtue  is  like__preciQiis__odprs,  most 
fragrant  when  they  are   incensed,  or  crushed;   for\ 

J  prosperity   doth    best    discover  vice,   but    adversity ) 

\  doth  best  discover  virtue.^ 

as  also  in  the  tribulation  caused  by  the  wicked  conduct  of  his 
son  Absalom.  Some  of  them,  too,  though  called  ' '  The  Psalms  of 
David,"  were  really  composed  by  the  Jews  in  their  captivity  at 
Babylon  ;  as,  for  instance,  the  137th  Psalm,  which  so  beautifully 
commences,  "  By  the  waters  of  Babylon  there  we  sat  down." 
One  of  them  is  supposed  to  be  the  composition  of  Moses. 

^  This  fine  passage,  beginning  at  ' '  Prosperity  is  the  blessing, " 
which  was  not  published  till  1625,  twenty-eight  years  after  the 
first  Essays,  has  been  quoted  by  Macaulay,  with  considerable 
justice,  as  a  proof  that  the  writer's  fancy  did  not  decay  with  the 
advance  of  old  age,  and  that  his  style  in  his  later  years  became 
richer  and  softer.  The  learned  critic  contrasts  this  passage  with 
the  terse  style  of  the  Essay  of  Studies  (Essay  50),  which  was 
published  in  1597. 


78  ESSAYS. 


\A 


VI.— OF  SIMULATION  AND  DISSIMULATION, 

Dissimulation  is  but  a  faint  kind  of  policy,  or 
wisdom ;  for  it  asketh  a  strong  wit  and  a  strong 
heart  to  know  when  to  tell  truth,  and  to  do  it ; 
therefore  it  is  the  weaker  sort  of  politicians  that  are 
the  great  dissemblers. 

Tacitus  saith,  "  Li  via  sorted  well  with  the  arts  of 
her  husband,  and  dissimulation  of  her  son ;  ^  attri- 
buting arts  or  policy  to  Augustus,  and  dissimulation 
to  Tiberius  :  "  and  again,  when  Mucianus  encour- 
ageth  Vespasian  to  take  arms  against  Vitellius,  he 
saith,  "We  rise  not  against  the  piercing  judgment 
of  Augustus,  nor  the  extreme  caution  or  closeness 
of  Tiberius."  ^  These  properties  of  arts  or  policy, 
and  dissimulation  or  closeness,  are  indeed  habits  and 
faculties  several,  and  to  be  distinguished  ;  for  if  a 
man  have  that  penetration  of  judgment  as  he  can  dis- 
cern what  things  are  to  be  laid  open,  and  what  to 
be  secreted,  and  what  to  be  showed  at  half-lights,  and 
to  whom  and  when  (which  indeed  are  arts  of  state, 
and  arts  of  life,  as  Tacitus  well  calleth  them),  to 
him  a  habit  of  dissimulation  is  a  hinderance  and  a 
poorness.  But  if  a  man  cannot  obtain  to  that  judg- 
ment, then  it  is  left  to  him  generally  to  be  close,  and 
a  dissembler  ;  for  where  a  man  cannot  choose  or  vary 
in  particulars,  there  it  is  good  to  take  the  safest  and 
wariest  way  in  general,  like  the  going  softly  by  one 

1  Tac.  Ann.  v.  1.  »  Tac.  Hist.  ii.  76. 


OF  SIMULATION  AND  DISSIMULATION.       79 

that  cannot  well  see.  Certainly,  the  ablest  men  that 
ever  were,  have  had  aU  an  openness  and  frankness 
of  dealing,  and  a  name  of  certainty  and  veracity  : 
but  then  they  were  like_horses  well  managed,  for 
they  could  tell  passing  well  when  to  stop  or  turn  ; 
and  at  such  times,  when  they  thought  the  case  indeed 
required  dissimulation,  if  then  they  used  it,  it  came 
to  pass  that  the  former  opinion  spread  abroad,  of 
their  good  faith  and  clearness  of  dealing,  made  them 
almost  invisible. 

There  be  three  degrees  of  this  hiding  and  veiling 
of  a  man's  self:  the  first,  closeness,  reservation,  and 
secrecy ;  when  a  man  leaveth  himself  without  obser- 
vation, or  without  hold  to  be  taken,  what  he  is  : 
the  second,  dissimulation  in  the  negative ;  when  a 
man  lets  fall  signs  and  arguments,  that  he  is  not 
that  he  is :  and  the  third,  simulation  in  the  affinna- 
tive ;  when  a  man  industriously  and  expressly  feigns 
and  pretends  to  be  that  he  is  not. 

For  the  first  of  these,  secrecy,  it  is  indeed  the 
virtue  of  a  confessor ;  and  assuredly  the  secret  man 
hcareth  many  confessions ;  for  who  will  open  himself 
to  a  blab  or  a  babbler?  But  if  a  man  be  thought 
secret,  it  inviteth  discovery,  as  the  more  close  air 
sucketh  in  the  more  open ;  and,  as  in  confession, 
the  revealing  is  not  for  worldly  use,  but  for  the  ease 
of  a  man's  heart,  so  secret  men  come  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  many  things  in  that  kind  ;  while  men  rather 
discharge  their  minds  than  impart  their  minds.  In 
few  words,  mysteries  are  due  to  secrecy.      Besides 


80  ESSAYS. 

(to  say  truth),  nakedness  is  uncomely,  as  well  in 
mind  as  body ;  and  it  addeth  no  small  reverence  to 
men's  manners  and  actions,  if  they  be  not  altogether 
open.  As  for  talkers  and  futile  persons,  they  are 
commonly  vain  and  credulous  withal ;  for  he  that 
talketh  what  he  knoweth,  will  also  talk  what  he 
knoweth  not;  therefore  set  it  down,  that  a  habit 
of  secrecy  is  both  politic  and  moral :  and  in  this  part 
it  is  good  that  a  man's  face  give  his  tongue  leave 
to  speak ;  for  the  discovery  of  a  man's  self  by  the 
tracts  ^  of  his  countenance,  is  a  great  weakness  and 
betraying,  by  how  much  it  is  many  times  more 
marked  and  believed  than  a  man's  words. 

For  the  second^jw^hichj^  dissimulation,  it  followeth 
many  times  upon  secrecy  by  a  necessity ;  so  that  he 
that  will  be  secret  must  be  a  dissembler  in  some 
degree ;  for  men  are  too  cunning  to  suffer  a  man  to 
keep  an  indifferent  carriage  between  both,  and  to 
be  secret,  without  swaying  the  balance  on  either  side. 
They  will  so  beset  a  man  with  questions,  and  draw 
him  on,  and  pick  it  out  of  him,  that  without  an 
absurd  silence,  he  must  show  an  inclination  one 
way ;  or  if  be  do  not,  they  will  gather  as  much  by 
his  silence  as  by  his  speech.  As  for  equivocations, 
or  oraculous  speeches,  they  cannot  hold  out  long : 
so  that  no  man  can  be  secret,  except  he  give  himself 
a  little  scope  of  dissimulation,  which  is,  as  it  were, 
but  the  skirts  or  train  of  secrecy. 

But  for  the  third  degree,  which  is  simulation  and 

*  A  word  now  unused,  signifying  the  "  traits,"  or  "  features." 


OP  SIMULATION  AND  DISSIMULATION.       81 

false  profession,  that  I  hold  more  culpable,  and  less 
politic,  except  it  be  in  great  and  rare  matters ;  and, 
therefore,  a  general  custom  of  simulation  (which  is 
this  last  degree)  is  a  vice  rising  either  of  a  natural 
falseness,  or  fearfulness,  or  of  a  mind  that  hath  some 
main  faults  ;  which  because  a  man  must  needs  dis- 
guise, it  maketh  him  practise  simulation  in  other 
things,  lest  his  hand  should  be  out  of  use. 

The  advantages  of  simulation  and  dissimulation 
are  three  :  first,  to  lay  asleep  opposition,  and  to  sur- 
prise; for,  where  a  man's  intentions  are  published, 
it  is  an  alarum  to  call  up  all  that  are  against  them : 
the  second  is,  to  reserve  to  a  man's  self  a  fair  retreat ; 
for  if  a  man  engage  himself  by  a  manifest  declarar 
tion,  he  must  go  through  or  take  a  fall :  the  third 
is,  the  better  to  discover  the  mind  of  another ;  for 
to  him  that  opens  himself  men  will  hardly  show 
themselves  adverse ;  but  will  (fair)  let  him  go  on, 
and  turn  their  freedom  of  speech  to  freedom  of 
thought ;  and  therefore  it  is  a  good  shrewd  proverb 
of  the  Spaniard,  "  Tell  a  lie,  and  find  a  troth  ;  "  ^ 
as  if  there  were  no  way  of  discovery  but  by  simu- 
lation. There  be  also  three  disadvantages  to  set  it 
even ;  the  first,  that  simulation  and  dissimulation 
commonly  carry  with  them  a  show  of  fearfulness, 
which,  in  any  business,  doth  spoil  the  feathers  of 
round  flying  up  to  the  mark ;  the  second,  that  it 
puzzleth  and  perplexeth  the  conceits  of  many,  that, 
perhaps,  would  otherwise  cooperate  with  him,  and 

1  A  truth.  —A.L.  II.  xxiii,  14. 
6 


82  ESSAYS. 

makes  a  man  walk  almost  alone  to  his  own  ends : 
the  third,  and  greatest,  is,  that  it  depriveth  a  man 
of  one  of  the  most  principal  instruments  for  action, 
which  is  trust  and  belief.  The  best  composition  and 
temperature  is,  to  have  openness  in  fame  and  opin- 
ion, secrecy  in  habit,  dissimulation  in  seasonable  use, 
.and  a  power  to  feign  if  there  be  no  remedy. 


/. 


VII.  — OF  PARENTS  AND  CHILDREN. 

The  joys  of  parents  are  secret,  and  so  are  their 
griefs  and  fears  ;  they  cannot  utter  the  one,  nor  they 
will  not  utter  the  other.  Children  sweeten  labors, 
^ut  they  make  misfortunes  more  bitter ;  they  in- 
crease the  cares  of  life,  ]^  they  mitigate  the  re- 
membrance of  death.  The  perpetuity  by  generation 
is  common  to  beasts ;  but  memory,  merit,  and  noble 
works,  are  proper  to  men :  aad^rely  a  man  shall 
see  the  noblest  works  and  foundations  have  pro- 
ceeded from  childless  men,  which  have  sought  to 
express  the  images  of  their  minds  where  those  of 
their  bodies  have  failed ;  so  the  care  of  posterity  is 
most  in  them  that  have  no  posterity.  They  that  are 
the  first  raisers  of  their  houses  are  most  indulgent 
towards  their  children,  beholding  them  as  the  con- 
tinuance, not  only  of  their  kind,  but  of  their  work ; 
and^^o^both  children  and  creatures. 

The  difference  in  afiection  of  parents  towards  their 
several  children  is  many  times  unequal,  aud  some- 


OF  PARENTS  AND  CHILDREN.      83 

times  unworthy,  especially  in  the  mother;  as  Solo- 
mon saith,  "A  wise  son  rejoiceth  the  father,  but 
an  ungracious  son  shames  the  mother."^  A  man 
shall  see,  where  there  is  a  house  full  of  children, 
one  or  two  of  the  eldest  respected,  and  the  youngest 
made  wantons;^  but  in  the  midst  some  that  are, 
as  it  were,  forgotten,  who  many  times,  nevertheless, 
prove  the  best.  The  illiberality  of  parents,  in  al- 
lowance towards  their  children,  is  a  harmful  error, 
makes  them  base,  acquaints  them  with  shifts,  makes 
them  sort  with  mean  company,  and  makes  them 
surfeit  more  when  they  come  to  plenty ;  and,  there- 
fore, the  proofs  is  best  when  men  keep  their  au- 
thority towards  their  children,  but  not  their  purse. 
Men  have  a  foolish  manner  (both  parents,  and 
schoolmasters,  and  servants),  in  creating  and  breed- 
ing an  emulation  between  brothers  during  childhood, 
which  many  times  sorteth*  to  discord  when  they 
are   men,   and   disturbeth   families.^      The   Italians 

1  Proverbs  x.  1  :  "A  wise  son  maketh  a  glad  father,  but  a 
foolLsh  son  is  the  heaviness  of  his  mother." 

'  Petted  —  spoiled. 

8  This  word  seems  here  to  mean  "a  plan,"  or  "method,"  as 
proved  by  its  results. 

*  Ends  in. 

^  There  is  considerable  justice  in  this  remark.  Children  should 
be  taught  to  do  what  is  right  for  its  own  sake,  and  because  it  is 
their  duty  to  do  so,  and  not  that  they  may  have  the  selfish 
gratification  of  obtaining  the  reward  which  their  companions  have 
failed  to  secure,  and  of  being  led  to  tliink  themselves  superior  to 
their  companions.  When  launched  upon  the  world,  emulation 
will  be  quite  sufficiently  forced  upon  them  by  stem  necessity. 


84  ESSAYS, 

make  little  difference  between  children  and  nephews, 
or  near  kinsfolk ;  but  so  they  be  of  the  lump,  they 
care  not,  though  they  pass  not  through  their  own 
body ;  and,jto_jay_truth,  in  nature  it  is  much  a  like 
matter;  insomuch  that  we  see  a  nephew  sometimes 
resembleth  an  uncle  or  a  kinsman  more  than  his 
own  parent,  as  the  blood  happens.  Let  parents 
choose  betimes  the  vocations  and  courses  they  mean 
their  children  should  take,  for  then  they  are  most 
flexible;  and  let  them  not  too  much  apply  them- 
selves to  the  disposition  of  their  children,  as  thinking 
they  will  take  best  to  that  which  they  have  most 
mind  to.  It  is  true,  that  if  the  affection  or  aptness 
of  the  children  be  extraordinary,  then  it  is  good  not 
to  cross  it ;  but  generally  the  precept  is  good,  "  Opti- 
mum elige,  suave  et  facile  illud  faciet  consuetudo."  ^ 
—  Younger  brothers  are  commonly  fortunate,  but 
seldom  or  never  where  the  elder  are  disinherited. 


M^III.  —  OF  MARRIAGE  AND  SINGLE  LIFE. 

He  that  hath  wife  and  children  hath  given  hos- 
tages to  fortune ;  for  they  are  impediments  to  great 
enterprises,  either  of  virtue  or  mischief.  Certainly 
the  best  works,  and  of  greatest  merit  for  the  public, 
have  proceeded  from  the  unmarried  or  childless  men, 

1  "Select  thai  course  of  life  which  is  the  most  advantageotis  ; 
habit  will  soon  render  it  pleasant  and  easily  endured." 


OF  MARRIAGE  AND  SINGLE  LIFE.  85 

^ich,  both  in  aiFection  and  means,  have  married 
and  endowed  the  public.  Yet  it  were  great  reason 
that  those  that  have  children  should  have  greatest 
care  of  future  times,  unto  which  they  know  they 
must  transmit  their  dearest  pledges.  Some  there 
are  who,  though  they  lead  a  single  life,  yet  their 
thoughts  do  end  with  themselves,  and  account  future 
times  impertinences ;  nay,  there  are  some  other  that 
account  wife  and  children  but  as  bills  of  charges ; 
nay  more,  there  are  some  foolish,  rich,  covetous  men, 
that  take  a  pride  in  having  no  children,  because 
they  may  be  thought  so  much  the  richer ;  for,  per- 
haps they  have  heard  some  talk,  "Such  an  one  is 
a  great  rich  man,"  and  another  except  to  it,  "  Yea, 
but  he  hath  a  great  charge  of  children ;  "  as  if  it 
were  an  abatement  to  his  riches.  But  the  most 
ordinary  cause  of  a  single  life  is  liberty,  especially 
in  certain  self-pleasing  and  humorous  minds,  which 
are  so  sensible  of  every  restraint,  as_the^_will  go 
near  to  think  their  girdles  and  garters  to  be  bonds 
and  shackles.  Unmarried  men  are  best  friends,  best 
masters,  best  servants ;  but  not  always  best  subjects, 
for  they  are  light  to  run  away,  and  almost  all  fugi- 
tives are  of  that  condition.  A  single  life  doth  well 
with  churchmen,  for  charity^ will  Jiardly_water  the 
ground  where  it  must  first^M^^^gooI.^  It  is  indiffer- , 
ent  for  judges  and  magistrates ;  for  if  they  be  facile 

1  His  meaning  is,  that  if  clergymen  have  the  expenses  of  a 
family  to  support,  they  will  hardly  find  means  for  the  exercise 
of  benevolence  toward  their  parishioners. 


86  ESSAYS. 

and  corrupt,  you  shall  have  a  servant  five  times 
worse  than  a  wife.  For  soldiers,  I  find  the  generals 
commonly,  in  their  hortatives,  put  men  in  mind  of 
their  wives  and  children ;  and  I  think  the  despising 
of  marriage  amongst  the  Turks  maketh  the  vulgar 
fSoldier  more  base.  Certainly,  wife  and  children  are 
a  kind  of  discipline  of  humanity ;  and  single  men, 
though  they  be  many  times  more  charitable,  because 
their  means  are  less  exhaust,  yet,  on  the  other  side, 
they  are  more  cruel  and  hard-hearted  (good  to  make 
severe  inquisitors),  because  their  tenderness  is  not 
so  oft  called  upon.  Grave  natures,  led  by  custom, 
and  therefore  constant,  are  commonly  loving  hus- 
bands, as  was  said  of  Ulysses,  "  Vetulam  suam  prae- 
tulit  immortalitati."  ^  Chaste  women  are  often  proud 
and  froward,  as  presuming  upon  the  merit  of  their 
chastity.  It  is  one  of  the  best  bonds,  both  of  chas- 
tity and  obedience,  in  the  wife,  if  she  tliink  her 
husband  wise,  which  she  will  never  do  if  she  find 
him  jealous.  Wives  are  young  men's  mistresses, 
companions  for  middle  age,  and  old  men's  nurses, 
so  as  a  man  may  have  a  quarrel^  to  marry  when 
he  will ;  but  yet  he  was  reputed  one  of  the  wise  men 
that  made  answer  to  the  question  when  a  man 
should  marry,   "A  young  man  not  yet,   an   elder 

1  "  He  preferred  his  aged  wife  Penelope  to  iimnortality."  This 
was  when  Ulysses  was  entieatetl  by  the  goddess  Calypso  to  give 
up  all  thoughts  of  returning  to  Ithaca,  and  to  remain  with  her 
iu  the  enjoyment  of  immortality.  —  PhU.  Gryll,  1. 

2  «<  May  have  a  pretext,"  or  "  excuae." 


OF  ENVY.  87 

man  not  at  all."  ^  It  is  often  seen  that  bad  hus- 
bands have  very  good  wives ;  whether  it  be  that  it 
raiseth  the  price  of  their  husbands'  kindness  when 
it  comes,  or  that  the  wives  take  a  pride  in  their 
patience ;  but  this  never  fails,  if  the  bad  husbands 
were  of  their  own  choosing,  against  their  friends' 
consent,  for  then  they  will  be  sure  to  make  good 
their  own  folly. 


v:. 


IX.  — OF  ENVY. 

THERE_bejiQllfi.of  the  affections  which  have  been 
noted  to  fascinate  or  bewitch,  butjlove  and  envy. 
They  both  have  vehement  wishes ;  they  frame  them- 
selves readily  into  imaginations  and  suggestions,  and 
they  come  easily  into  the  eye,  especially  upon  the , 
presence  of  the  objects  which  are  the  points  that 
conduce  to  fascination,  if  any  such  thing  there  be. 
We  see,  likewise,  the  Scripture  calleth  envy  an  evil 
eye ;  ^  and  the  astrologers  call  the  evil  influences  of 

1  Thales,  Vide  Diog.  Laert.  i.  26. 

2  So  prevalent  in  ancient  times  was  the  notion  of  the  injurious 
effects  of  the  eye  of  envy,  that,  in  common  parlance,  the  Romans 
generally  used  the  word  " prcefiscini," —  *'  without  risk  of  enchant- 
ment," or  "fascination,"  when  they  spoke  in  high  terms  of  them- 
selves. They  supposed  that  they  thereby  averted  the  effects  of 
enchantment  produced  by  the  evil  eye  of  any  envious  person  who 
might  at  that  moment  possibly  be  looking  upon  them.  Lord 
Bacon  probably  here  alludes  to  St.  Mark  vii.  21,  22  :  "  Out  ot 
the  heart  of  men  proceedeth  —  deceit,  lasciviousness,  an  evil  eye." 
Solomon  also  speaks  of  the  evil  eye,  Prov.  xxiii.  6,  and  xxviii.  22. 


88  ESSAYS. 

the  stars  evil  aspects ;  so  that  still  there  seemeth  to 
be  acknowledged,  in  the  act  of  envy,  an  ejaculation, 
or  irradiation  of  the  eye ;  nay,  some  have  been  so 
curious  as  to  note  that  the  times,  when  the  stroke  or 
percussion  of  an  envious  eye  doth  most  hurt,  are, 
when  the  party  envied  is  beheld  in  glory  or  triumph, 
for  that  sets  an  edge  upon  envy;  and  besides,  at 
such  times,  the  spirits  of  the  person  envied  do  come 
forth  most  into  the  outward  parts,  and  so  meet  the 
blow. 

But,  leaving  these  curiosities  (though  not  un- 
worthy to  be  thought  on  in  fit  place),  we  will  handle 
what  persons  are  apt  to  envy  others  ;  what  persons 
are  most  subject  to  be  envied  themselves ;  and  what 
is  the  difference  between  public  and  private  envy. 

A  man  that  hath  no  virtue  in  himself,  ever  envi- 
eth  ^drtue  in  others ;  for  men's  minds  will  either 
feed  upon  their  own  good,  or  upon  others'  evil ;  and 
who  wanteth  the  one  will  prey  upon  the  other ;  and 
whoso  is  out  of  hope  to  attain  to  another's  virtue, 
will  seek  to  come  at  even  hand^  by  depressing 
another's  fortune. 

A  man  that  is  J)usj_aiid  inquisitive,  is  commonly 
envious ;  for  to  know  much  of  other  men's  matters 
cannot  be,  because  all  that  ado  may  concern  his 
own  estate ;  therefore,  it  must  needs  be  that  he 
taketh  a  kind  of  play-pleasure  in  looking  upon  the 
fortunes  of  others ;  neither  can  he  that  mindeth  but 
his  own  business  find  much  matter  for  envy  ;  for 

1  To  1)6  even  with  him. 


OF  ENVY.  89 

envy  is  a  gadding  passion,  and  walketh  the  streets^ 
and  doth  not  keep  home :  "  Non  est  curiosus,  quin 
idem  sit  malevolus."  ^ 

Men  of  noble  birth  are  noted  to  be  envious  to- 
wards new  men  when  they  rise,  for  the  distance  is 
altered;  and  it  is  like  a  deceit  of  the  eye,  that 
when  others  come  on  they  think  themselves  go  back. 

Deformed  pereons  jLnd_eimuchs,  and  old  men  and 
bastards,  are  envious ;  for  he  that  cannot  possibly 
mend  his  own  case,  will  do  what  he  can  to  impair 
another's;  except  these  defects  light  upon  a  very 
brave  and  heroical  nature,  which  thinketh  to  make 
his  natural  wants  part  of  his  honor ;  in  that  it 
should  be  said,  "That  a  eunuch,  or  a  lame  man, 
did  such  great  matters,"  affecting  the  honor  of  a 
miracle  ;  as  it  was  in  Narses  ^  the  eunuch,  and  Ages- 
ilaus  and  Tamerlane,^  that  were  lame  men. 

1  "There  is  no  person  a  busybody,  but  what  he  is  ill-natured 
too. "     This  passage  is  from  the  Stichus  of  Plautus. 

'^  Narses  supei-seded  Belisarius  in  the  command  of  the  armies 
of  Italy,  by  the  orders  of  the  Emperor  Justinian.  He  defeated 
Totila,  the  king  of  the  Goths  (who  had  taken  Rome),  in  a  decisive 
engagement,  in  which  the  latter  was  slain.  He  governed  Italy  with 
consummate  ability  for  thirteen  years,  when  he  was  ungratefully 
recalled  by  Justin  the  Second,  the  successor  of  Justinian. 

8  Tamerlane,  or  Timour,  was  a  native  of  Samarcand,  of  which 
territory  he  was  elected  emperor.  He  overran  Persia,  Georgia, 
Hindostan,  and  captured  Bajazet,  the  valiant  Sultan  of  the  Turks, 
at  the  battle  of  Angora,  1402,  whom  he  is  said  to  have  inclosed 
in  a  cage  of  iron.  His  conquests  extended  from  the  Irtish  and 
Volga  to  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  from  the  Ganges  to  the  Grecian 
Archipelago.  While  preparing  for  the  invasion  of  China,  he  died, 
in  the  70th  year  of  his  age,  A.  D.  1405.     He  was  tall  and  corpulent 


90  ESSAYS. 

The  same  is  the  case  of  men  that  rise  after  calami- 
ties and  misfortunes ;  for  they  are  as  men  fallen  out 
with  the  times,  and  think  other  men's  harms  a  re- 
demption of  their  own  sufferings. 

They  that  desirejto_exce]_Jii_too_nm  matters,  out 
of  levity  and  vainglory,  are  ever  envious,  for  they 
cannot  want  work ;  it  being  impossible  but  many,  in 
some  one  of  those  things,  should  surpass  them; 
which  was  the  character  of  Adrian  the  emperor,  that 
mortally  envied  poets  and  painters,  and  artificers  in 
works,  wherein  he  had  a  vein  to  excel.^ 

Lastly,  near  kinsfolk,  and  fellows  in  office,  and 
those  that  have  been  bred  together,  are  more  apt 
to  envy  their  equals  when  they  are  raised;  for  it 
doth  upbraid  unto  them  their  own  fortunes,  and 
pointeth  at  them,  and  cometh  oftener  into  their 
remembrance,  and  incurreth  likewise  more  into  the 
note  ^  of  others ;  and  envy  ever  redoubleth  from 
speech  and  fame.  Cain's  envy  was  the  more  vile 
and  malignant  towards  his  brother  Abel,  because 
when  his  sacrifice  was  better  accepted,  there  was 
nobody  to  look  on.  Thus  much  for  those  that  are 
apt  to  envy. 

Concerning  those  that  are  more  or  less  subject  to 
envy :  First,  persons  of  eminent  virtue,  when  they 
are  advanced,  are  less  envied,  for  their  fortune 
seemeth  but  due  unto  them;  and  no  man  envieth 

in  person,  but  was  maimed  in  one  hand,  and  lame  on  the  right 
side. 

*  Spartian  Vit.  Adrian,  15. 

'  Comes  under  the  observation. 


OF  ENVY.  91 

the  payment  of  a  debt,  but  rewards  and  liberality 
rather.  Again,  envy  is  ever  joined  with  the  com- 
paring of  a  man's  self;  and  where  there  is  no 
comparison,  no  envy;  and  therefore  kings  are  not 
envied  but  by  kings.  Nevertheless,  it  is  to  be  noted, 
that  unworthy  persons  are  most  envied  at  their 
first  coming  in,  and  afterwards  overcome  it  better ; 
whereas,  contrariwise,  persons  of  worth  and  merit 
are  most  envied  when  their  fortune  continueth  long ; 
for  by  that  time,  though  their  virtue  be  the  same, 
yet  it  hath  not  the  same  lustre ;  for  fresh  men  grow 
up  that  darken  it. 

Persons  of  noble  blood  are  less  envied  in  their 
rising ;  for  it  seemeth  but  right  done  to  their  birth : 
besides,  there  seemeth  not  so  much  added  to  their 
fortune ;  and  envy  is  as  the  sunbeams,  that  beat 
hotter  upon  a  bank  or  steep  rising  ground,  than 
upon  a  flat;  and,  for  the  same  reason,  those  that 
are  advanced  by  degrees  are  less  envied  than  those 
that  are  advanced  suddenly,  and  per  saltum} 

Those  that  have  joined  with  their  honor  great 
travels,  cares,  or  perils,  are  less  subject  to  envy;  for 
men  think  that  they  earn  their  honors  hardly,  and 
pity  them  sometimes,  and  pity  ever_healeth  envy. 
Wherefore  you  shaUjjbserve,  that  the  more  deep 
and  8ober~soirtorpolitic  persons,  in  their  greatness, 
are  ever  bemoaning  themselves  what  a  life  they  lead, 
chanting  a  quanta  patimur ;^  not  that  they  feel 

^  "By  a  leap,"  i.  e.  over  the  heads  of  othera. 
2  "  How  vast  the  evils  we  endure." 


92  ESSAYS. 

it  so,  jbut  only  to  abate  the  edge  of  envy ;  ^t  this 
is  to  be  understood  of  business  that  is  laid  upon 
men,  and  not  such  as  they  call  unto  themselves  ; 
for  nothing  increaseth  envy  more  than  an  unneces- 
sary and  ambitious  engrossing  of  business ;  and  noth- 
ing doth  extinguish  envy  more  than  for  a  great 
person  to  preserve  all  other  inferior  officers  in  their 
full  rights  and  preeminences  of  their  places;  for, 
by  that  means,  there  be  so  many  screens  between 
him  and  envy. 

Above  all,  those  are  most  subject  to  envy,  which 
carry  the  greatness  of  their  fortunes  in  an  insolent 
and  proud  manner;  being  never  well  but  while 
they  are  showing  how  great  they  are,  either  by  out- 
ward pomp,  or  by  triumphing  over  all  opposition 
or  competition.  Whereas  wise  men  will  rather  do 
sacrifice  to  envy,  in  suffering  themselves,  sometimes 
of  purpose,  to  be  crossed  and  overborne  in  things 
that  do  not  much  concern  them.  Notwithstanding, 
so  much  is  true,  that  the  carriage  of  greatness  in  a 
plain  and  open  manner  (so  it  be  without  arrogancy 
and  vainglory),  doth  draw  less  envy  than  if  it  be 
in  a  more  crafty  and  cunning  fashion;  for  in  that 
course  a  man  doth  but  disavow  fortune,  and  seem- 
eth  to  be  conscious  of  his  own  want  in  worth,  and 
doth  but  teach  others  to  envy  him. 

Lastly,  to  conclude  this  part,  as  we  said  in  the 
beginning  that  the  act  of  envy  had  somewhat  in  it 
of  witchcraft,  so  there  is  no  other  cure  of  envy 
but  the  cure  of  witchcraft ;  and  that  is,  to  remove 


OF  ENVY.  93 

the  lot  (as  they  call  it),  and  to  lay  it  upon  another  ; 
for  which  purpose,  the  wiser  sort  of  great  persons 
bring  in  ever  upon  the  stage  somebody  upon  whom 
to  derive  the  envy  that  would  come  upon  them- 
selves ;  sometimes  upon  ministers  and  servants, 
sometimes  upon  colleagues  and  associates,  and  the 
like;  and,  for  that  turn,  there  are  never  wanting 
some  persons  of  violent  and  undertaking  natures, 
who,  so  they  may  have  power  and  business,  will 
take  it  at  any  cost. 

Now,  to  speak  of  public  envy :  there  is  yet  some 
good  in  public  envy,  whereas  in  private  there  is 
none;  for  public  envy  is  as  an  ostracism,^  that 
eclipseth  men  when  they  grow  too  great ;  and  there- 
fore it  is  a  bridle  also  to  great  ones,  to  keep  them 
within  bounds. 

This  envy,  being  in  the  Latin  word  invidia^  goeth 
in  the  modern  languages  by  the  name  of  discontent- 
ment, of  which  we  shall  speak  in  handling  sedition. 
It  is  a  disease  in  a  state  like  to  infection;  for  as 
infection  spreadeth  upon  that  which  is  sound,  and 
tainteth  it,  so,  when  envy  is  gotten  once  into  a 
state,  it  traduceth  even  the  best  actions  thereof,  and 
turneth  them  into  an  ill  odor;  and  therefore  there 
is  little  won  by  intermingling  of  plausible  actions ; 
for  that  doth  ai^ue  but  a  weakness  and  fear  of  envy, 

^  He  probably  alludes  to  the  custom  of  the  Athenians,  who 
frequently  ostracized  or  banished  by  vote  their  public  men,  lest 
they  should  become  too  powerful. 

2  From  in  and  video,  —  "to  look  upon;"  with  reference  to 
the  so-called  "evil  eye"  of  the  envious. 


94  ESSAYS. 

which  hurteth  so  much  the  more,  as  it  is  likewise 
usual  in  infections,  which,  if  you  fear  them,  you 
call  them  upon  you. 

This  public  envy  seemeth  to  beat  chiefly  upon 
principal  officers  or  ministers,  rather  than  upon 
kings  and  estates  themselves.  But  this  is  a  sure 
rule,  that  if  the  envy  upon  the  minister  be  great, 
when  the  cause  of  it  in  him  is  small ;  or  if  the  envy 
be  general  in  a  manner  upon  all  the  ministers  of 
an  estate,  then  the  envy  (though  hidden)  is  truly 
upon  the  state  itself.  And  so  much  of  public  envy 
or  discontentment,  and  the  difference  thereof  from 
private  envy,  which  was  handled  in  the  first  place. 

We  will  add  this  in  general,  touching  the  affec- 
tion of  envy,  that,  of  all  other  aflfections,  it  is  the 
most  importune  and  continual;  for  of  other  aflfec- 
tions there  is  occasion  given  but  now  and  then  ; 
and  therefore  it  was  well  said,  "  Invidia  festos  dies 
non  agit : "  ^  for  it  is  ever  working  upon  some  or 
other.  And  it  is  also  noted,  that  love  and  envy  do 
make  a  man  pine,  which  other  aflfections  do  not, 
because  they  are  not  so  continual.  It  is  also  the 
vilest  aflfection,  and  the  most  depraved ;  for  which 
cause  it  is  the  proper  attribute  of  the  devil,  who 
is  called  "The  envious  man,  that  soweth  tares 
amongst  the  wheat  by  night ;"2  as  it  always  com- 
eth  to  pass  that  envy  worketh  subtilely,  and  in  the 
4a£kj.  and  to  the  prejudice  of  good  things,  such  as 
is  the  wheat. 

1  "Envy  keeps  uo  holidays."         ^  See  St.  Matthew  xiii.  25. 


OF  LOVE.  95 

Vx.  — OF  LOVE. 

The  stage  is  more  beholding^  to  love  than  the 
life  of  man ;  fpr^as  to  the  stage,  love  is  ever  matter 
of  comedies,  and  now  and  then  of  tragedies ;  but_in 
life  it  doth  much  mischief,  sometimes  like  a  Siren, 
sometimes  like  a  Fury.  You  may  observe,  that, 
amongst  all  the  great  and  worthy  persons  (whereof 
the  memory  remaineth,  either  ancient  or  recent), 
there  is  not  one  that  hath  been  transported  to  the 
mad  degree  of  love,  which  shows  that  great  spirits 
and  great  business  do  keep  out  this  weak  passion. 
You  must  except,  nevertheless,  Marcus  Antonius, 
the  half  partner  of  the  empire  of  Rome,  and  Ap- 
pius  Claudius,^  the  decemvir  and  lawgiver ;  whereof 
the  former  was  indeed  a  voluptuous  man,  and  inor- 
dinate, but  the  latter  was  an  austere  and  wise  man  ; 
and  therefore  it  seems  (though  rarely)  that  love 
can  find  entrance,  not  only  into  an  open  heart,  but 
also  into  a  heart  well  fortified,  if  watch  be  not  well 
kept.  It  is  a  poor  saying  of  Epicurus,  "Satis 
magnum  alter  alteri  theatrum  sumus ; "  ^  as  if  man, 

1  Beholden. 

2  He  iniquitously  attempted  to  obtain  possession  of  the  person 
of  Virginia,  who  was  killed  by  her  father  Virginius,  to  prevent 
her  from  falling  a  victim  to  his  lust.  This  circumstance  caused 
the  fall  of  the  Decemviri  at  Kome,  who  had  been  employed  in 
framing  the  code  of  laws  afterwards  known  as  "The  Laws  of  the 
Twelve  Tables."  They  narrowly  escaped  being  burned  alive  by 
the  infuriated  populace. 

8  "We  are  a  sufficient  theme  for  contemplation,  the  one  for 


96  ESSAYS. 

made  for  the  contemplation  of  heaven  and  all  noble 
objects,  should  do  nothing  but  kneel  before  a  little 
idol,  and  make  himself  subject,  though  not  of  the 
mouth  (as  beasts  are)  yet  of  the  eye,  which  was 
given  him  for  higher  puq)oses.  It  is  a  strange 
thing  to  note  the  excess  of  this  passion,  and  how  it 
braves  the  nature  and  value  of  things,  by  this,  that 
the  speaking  in  a  perpetual  hyperbole  is  comely  in 
nothing  but  in  love,  neither  is  it  merely  in  the 
phrase ;  for  whereas  it  hath  been  well  said,  "  That 
the  arch  flatterer,  with  whom  all  the  petty  flatterers 
have  intelligence,  is  a  man's  self;"  certainly,  the 
'  lover  is  more ;  for  there  was  never  proud  man 
thought  so  absurdly  well  of  himself  as  the  lover 
doth  of  the  person  loved ;  and  therefore  it  was  well 
said,  "That  it  is  impossible  to  love  and  to  be  wise."  ^ 
Neither  doth  this  weakness  appear  to  others  only, 
and  not  to  the  party  loved,  but  to  the  loved  most  of 
all,  except  the  love  be  reciprocal ;  for  it  is  a  true 
rule,  that  love   is   ever   rewarded,  either   with   the 

the  other." — Sen.  Epist.  Mor.  1.  7.  (A.  L.  1.  iii.  6.)  Pope  seems, 
notwithstanding  this  censure  of  Bacon,  to  have  been  of  the  same 
opinion  with  Epicurus  :  — 

"  Know  then  thyself,  presume  not  God  to  scan, 
The  proper  study  for  mankind  is  man." 

Essay  on  Man,  £p.  ii.  1.  3. 

Indeed,  Lord  Bacon  seems  to  have  misunderstood  the  saying  of 
Epicurus,  who  did  not  mean  to  recommend  man  as  the  sole 
object  of  the  bodily  vision,  but  as  the  proper  theme  for  mental 
contemplation. 

1  Amare  et  sapere   vix  Deo  conceditur.  —  Pub.  Syr.  Sent.  15. 
(A.  L.  ii.  prooe.  10.) 


OF  LOVE.  97 

reciprocal,  or  mth  an  inward  and  secret  contempt ; 
by  how  much  the  more  men  ought  to  beware  of  this 
passion,  which  loseth  not  only  other  things,  but 
itself.  As  for  the  other  losses,  the  poet's  relation  ^ 
doth  well  figure  them :  "  That  he  that  preferred 
Helena,  quitted  the  gifts  of  Juno  and  Pallas ; "  for 
whosoever  esteemeth  too  much  of  amorous  affec- 
tion, quitteth  both  riches  and  wisdom.  This  passion 
hath  his  floods  in  the  very  times  of  weakness,  which 
are,  great  prosperity  and  great  adversity,  though 
this  latter  hath  been  less  observed;  both  which 
times  kindle  love,  and  make  it  more  fervent,  and 
therefore  show  it  to  be  the  child  of  folly.  They  do  > 
best  who,  if  they  cannot  but  admit  love,  yet  make 
it  keep  quarter,  and  sever  it  wholly  from  their 
serious  affairs  and  actions  of  life ;  for  if  it  check ' 
once  with  business,  it  troubleth  men's  fortunes,  and 
maketh  men  that  they  can  nowise  be  true  to  their 
own  ends.  I  know  not  how,  but  martial  men  are 
given  to  love ;  I  think  it  is,  but  as  they  are  given 
to  wine,  for  perils  commonly  ask  to  be  paid  in 
pleasures.  There  is  in  man's  nature  a  secret  incli- 
nation and  motion  towards  love  of  others,  which,  if 
it  be  not  spent  upon  some  one  or  a  few,  doth  natu- 
rally spread  itself  towards  many,  and  maketh  men 
become  humane  and  charitable,  as  it  is  seen  some- 
times in  friars.  Nuptial  love  maketh  mankind, 
friendly  love  perfecteth  it,  but  wanton  love  cor- 
rupteth  and  embaseth  it. 

^  He  refers  here  to  the  judgment  of  Paris,  mentioned  by  Ovid 

in  his  Epistles,  of  the  Heroines. 

7 


ESSAYS. 


vC 


XL  — OF  GREAT  PLACE.i 

Men  in  great  place  are  thrice  servants  —  servants 
of  the  sovereign  or  state,  servants  of  fame,  and  ser- 
vants of  business ;  so  as  they  have  no  freedom, 
neither  in  their  persons,  nor  in  their  actions,  nor 
in  their  times.  It  is  a  strange  desire  to  seek  power 
and  to  lose  liberty;  or  to  seek  power  over  others, 
and  to  lose  power  over  a  man's  self.  The  rising 
unto  place  is  laborious,  and  by  pains  men  come  to 
greater  pains ;  and  it  is  sometimes  base,  and  by 
indignities  men  come  to  dignities.  The  standing  is 
slippery,  and  the  regress  is  either  a  downfall,  or  at 
least  an  eclipse,  which  is  a  melancholy  thing :  "  Cum 
non  sis  qui  fueris,  non  esse  cur  velis  vivere. "  ^  Nay, 
retire  men  cannot  when  they  would,  neither  will 
they  when  it  were  reason ;  but  are  impatient  of 
privateness  even  in  age  and  sickness,  which  require 
the  shadow;  like  old  townsmen,  that  will  be  still 
sitting  at  their  street  door,  though  thereby  they 
offer  age  to  scorn.  Certainly,  great  persons  had 
need  to  borrow  other  men's  opinions  to  think  them- 
selves happy ;  for  if  they  judge  by  their  own  feeling, 
they  cannot  find  it;  but  if  they  think  with  them- 
selves what  other  men  think  of  them,  and  that 
other  men  would  fain  be  as  they  are,  then  they  are 

1  Montaigne  has  treated  this  subject  before  Bacon,  under  the 
title  of  De  I'iiicmmnodiU  de  la  Grandeur  (B.  iii.  ch.  vii.). 

2  "  Since  you  are  not  what  you  were,  there  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  wish  to  live." 


OF  GREAT  PLACE.  99 

happy  as  it  were  by  report,  when,  perhaps,  they  find 
the  contrary  within ;  for  they  are  the  first  that  find 
their  own  griefs,  though  they  be  the  last  that  find 
their  own  faults.  Certainly,  men  in  great  fortunes 
are  strangers  to  themselves,  and  while  they  are  in 
the  puzzle  of  business,  they  have  no  time  to  tend 
their  health  either  of  body  or  mind. 

"Illi  mors  gravis  incubat, 
Qui  notus  nimis  omnibus, 
Ignotus  moritur,"  ^  ^ 

In  place,  there  is  license  to  do  good  and  evil, 
whereof  the  latter  is  a  curse ;  for  in  evil,  the  best 
condition  is  not  to  will,  the  second  not  to  can.  But 
power  to  do  good  is  the  true  and  lawful  end  of 
aspiring;  for  good  thoughts,  though  God  accept 
them,  yet  towards  men  are  little  better  than  good 
dreams,  except  they  be  put  in  act;  and  that  can- 
not be  without  power  and  place,  as  the  vantage 
and  commanding  ground.  Merit  and  good  works 
are  the  end  of  man's  motion,  and  conscience  of  the 
same  is  the  accomplishment  of  man's  rest ;  for  if  a 
man  can  be  partaker  of  God's  theatre,  he  shall  like- 
wise be  partaker  of  God's  rest.  "  Et  conversus  Deus, 
ut  aspiceret  opera,  quae  fecerunt  manus  suae,  vidit 
quod  omnia  essent  bona  nimis  ;"2  and  then  the 
Sabbath. 

1  "Death  presses  heavily  upon  him,  who,  well  known  to  all 
others,  dies  unknown  to  himself."  —  Sen.   Thyest.  ii.   401. 

2  "  And  God  turned  to  behold  the  works  which  his  hands  had 
made,  and  he  saw  that  everything  was  very  good."  —  See  Gen.  i.  31. 


100  ESSAYS. 

In  the  discharge  of  thy  place,  set  before  thee  the 
best  examples ;  for  imitation  is  a  globe  of  precepts, 
/  and  after  a  time  set  before  thee  thine  o^vn  example ; 
I  and  examine  thyself  strictly  whether  thou  didst  not 
Vbest  at  first.     Neglect  not  also  the  examples  of  those 
that  have  carried  themselves  ill  in  the  same  place ; 
not  to  set  off  thyself  by  taxing  their  memory,  but 
to  direct  thyself  what  to  avoid.     Reform,  therefore, 
without  bravery  or  scandal  of  fonner  times  and  per- 
sons ;  but  yet  set  it  down  to  thyself,  as  well  to  create 
good  precedents  as  to  follow  them.     Reduce  things 
to  the  first  institution,  and  observe  wherein  and  how 
they  have  degenerated ;  but  yet  ask  counsel  of  both 

C times — of  the  ancient  time  what  is  best,  and  of  the 
latter  time  what  is  fittest.  Seek  to  make  thy  course 
regular,  that  men  may  know  beforehand  what  they 
may  expect;  but  be  not  too  positive  and  peremp- 
tory, and  express  thyself  well  when  thou  digressest 
from  thy  rule.  Preserve  the  right  of  thy  place,  but 
stir  not  questions  of  jurisdiction ;  and  rather  assume 
thy  right  in  silence,  and  de  facto^  than  voice  it  with 
claims  and  challenges.  Preserve  likewise  the  rights 
of  inferior  places ;  and  think  it  more  honor  to  direct 
in  chief  than  to  be  busy  in  all.  Embrace  and  invite 
helps  and  advices  touching  the  execution  of  thy 
place ;  and  do  not  drive  away  such  as  bring  thee 
information,  as  meddlers,  but  accept  of  them  in  good 
part.  The  vices  of  authority  are  chiefly  four:  de- 
lays, corruption,  roughness,  and  facility.     For  delays, 

1  "As  a  matter  of  course." 


OF  GREAT  PLACE.  101 

give  easy  access,  keep  times  appointed,  go  through 
with  that  which  is  in  hand,  and  interlace  not  busi- 
ness but  of  necessity.  For  corruption,  do  not  only 
bind  thine  own  hands  or  thy  servant's  hands  from 
taking,  but  bind  the  hands  of  suitors  also  from  offer- 
ing; for  integrity  used  doth  the  one,  but  integrity 
professed,  and  with  a  manifest  detestation  of  bribery, 
doth  the  other ;  and  avoid  not  only  the  fault,  but  the 
suspicion.  Whosoever  is  found  variable,  and  chang- 
eth  manifestly  without  manifest  cause,  giveth  sus- 
picion of  corruption ;  therefore,  always  when  thou 
changest  thine  opinion  or  course,  profess  it  plainly, 
and  declare  it,  together  with  the  reasons  that  move 
thee  to  change,  and  do  not  think  to  steal  it.  A 
servant  or  a  favorite,  if  he  be  inward,  and  no  other 
apparent  cause  of  esteem,  is  commonly  thought  but 
a  by-way  to  close  corruption.  For  roughness,  it  is 
a  needless  cause  of  discontent :  severity  breedeth 
fear,  but  roughness  breedeth  hate.  Even  reproofs 
from  authority  ought  to  be  grave,  and  not  taunting. 
As  for  facility,^  it  is  worse  than  bribery,  for  bribes 
come  but  now  and  then ;  but  if  importunity  or  idle 
respects  ^  lead  a  man,  he  shall  never  be  without ;  as 
Solomon  saith,  "  To  respect  persons  is  not  good ;  for 
such  a  man  will  transgress  for  a  piece  of  bread."  ^ 

*  Too  great  easiness  of  access. 

2  Predilections  that  are  undeserved. 

'  Proverbs  xxviii.  21.  The  whole  passage  stands  thus  in  our 
version  :  "He  that  niaketh  haste  to  be  rich  shall  not  be  innocent. 
To  have  respect  of  persons  is  not  good  ;  for,  for  a  piece  of  bread, 
that  man  will  transgress." 


102  ESSAYS. 

It  is  most  trae  that  was  anciently  spoken :  "A 
place  showeth  the  man  ;  and  it  showeth  some  to  the 
better,  and  some  to  the  worse  :  "  "  Omnium  consensu 
capax  imperii,  nisi  imperasset,"  ^  saith  Tacitus  of 
Galba ;  but  of  Vespasian  he  saith,  "  Solus  impe- 
rantium,  Vespasianus  mutatus  in  melius ; "  ^  though 
the  one  was  meant  of  sufficiency,  the  other  of  man- 
ners and  affection.  It  is  an  assured  sign  of  a  worthy 
and  generous  spirit,  whom  honor  amends  ;  for  honor 
is,  or  should  be,  the  place  of  virtue  ;  and  as  in  nature 
things  move  violently  to  their  place,  and  calmly  in 
their  place,  so  virtue  in  ambition  is  -vaolent,  in 
authority  settled  and  calm.  All  rising  to  great  place 
is  by  a  winding  stair  ;  and  if  there  be  factions,  it  is 
good  to  side  a  man's  self  whilst  he  is  in  the  rising, 
and  to  balance  himself  when  he  is  placed.  Use  the 
memory  of  thy  predecessor  fairly  and  tenderly ;  for 
if  thou  dost  not,  it  is  a  debt  will  sure  be  paid  when 
thou  art  gone.  If  thou  have  colleagues,  respect 
them ;  and  rather  call  them  when  they  look  not  for 
it,  than  exclude  them  when  they  have  reason  to  look 
to  be  called.  Be  not  too  sensible  or  too  remember- 
ing of  thy  place  in  conversation  and  private  answers 
to  suitors  ;  but  let  it  rather  be  said,  "  When  he  sits 
in  place,  he  is  another  man." 

1  "  By  the  consent  of  all  he  was  fit  to  govern,  if  he  had  not 
governed." 

*  "  Of  the  emperors,  Vespasian  alone  changed  for  the  better 
after  his  accession."  —  Tax.  Hist.  i.  49,  50  (A.  L.  iL  xxii.  5). 


OF  BOLDNESS.  103 


XII.  — OF  BOLDNESS. 

It  is  a  trivial  grammar-school  text,  but  yet  worthy 
a  wise  man's  consideration.  Question  was  asked  of 
Demosthenes,  what  was  the  chief  part  of  an  orator  ? 
He  answered,  Action.  What  next  ?  —  Action.  What 
next  again?  —  Action.^  He  said  it  that  knew  it 
best,  and  had,  by  nature,  himself  no  advantage  in 
that  he  commended.  A  strange  thing,  that  that  part 
of  an  orator  which  is  but  superficial,  and  rather  the 
virtue  of  a  player,  should  be  placed  so  high  above 
those  other  noble  parts  of  invention,  elocution,  and 
the  rest ;  nay,  almost  alone,  as  if  it  were  all  in  all. 
But  the  reason  is  plain.  There  is  in  human  nature 
generally  more  of  the  fool  than  of  the  wise  ;  and 
therefore,  those  faculties  by  which  the  foolish  part 
oi  men's  minds  is  taken  are  most  potent.  Wonder- 
ful like  is  the  case  of  boldness  in  civil  business. 
What  first  ?  —  Boldness  :  what  second  and  third  ?  — 
Boldness.  And  yet  boldness  is  a  child  of  ignorance 
and  baseness,  far  inferior  to  other  parts  ;  but,  never- 
theless, it  doth  fascinate,  and  bind  hand  and  foot 
those  that  are  either  shallow  in  judgment  or  weak 
in  courage,  which  are  the  greatest  part,  yea,  and 
prevaileth  with  wise  man  at  weak  times ;  therefore, 
we  see  it  hath  done  wonders  in  popular  states,  but 
with  senates  and  princes  less,  and  more,  ever  upon 
the  first  entrance  of  bold  persons  into  action  than 

»  Plut.  vit  Demosth.  17.  18. 


104  ESSAYS. 

soon  after ;  for  boldness  is  an  ill  keeper  of  promise. 
Surely,  as  there  are  mountebanks  for  the  natural 
body,  so  are  there  niountebanks  for  the  politic  body  ; 
men  that  undertake  great  cures,  and  perhaps  have 
been  lucky  in  two  or  three  experiments,  but  want 
the  grounds  of  science,  and  therefore  cannot  hold 
out ;  nay,  you  shall  see  a  bold  fellow  many  times  do 
Mahomet's  miracle.  Mahomet  made  the  people 
believe  that  he  would  call  a  hill  to  him,  and  from 
the  top  of  it  offer  up  his  prayers  for  the  observers  of 
his  law.  The  people  assembled ;  Mahomet  called 
the  hill  to  come  to  him  again  and  again ;  and  when 
the  hill  stood  still,  he  was  never  a  whit  abashed, 
but  said,  "  If  the  hill  will  not  come  to  Mahomet, 
Mahomet  will  go  to  the  hill."  So  these  men,  when 
they  have  promised  great  matters  and  failed  most 
shamefully,  yet,  if  they  have  the  perfection  of  boldness, 
they  will  but  slight  it  over,  and  make  a  turn,  and  no 
more  ado.  Certainly,  to  men  of  great  judgment, 
bold  persons  are  a  sport  to  behold ;  nay,  and  to  the 
vulgar  also  boldness  hath  somewhat  of  the  ridiculous ; 
for  if  absurdity  be  the  subject  of  laughter,  doubt  you 
not  but  great  boldness  is  seldom  without  some  ab- 
surdity ;  especially  it  is  a  sport  to  see  when  a  bold 
fellow  is  out  of  countenance,  for  that  puts  his  face 
into  a  most  shrunken  and  wooden  posture,  as  needs 
it  must ;  for  in  bashfulness  the  spirits  do  a  little  go 
and  come,  but  with  bold  men,  upon  like  occasion, 
they  stand  at  a  stay  ;  like  a  stale  at  chess,  where  it 
is  no  mate,  but  yet  the  game  cannot  stir ;  but  this 


OF  GOODNESS,  ETC.  105 

last  were  fitter  for  a  satire  than  for  a  serious  obser- 
vation. This  is  well  to  be  weighed,  that  boldness 
is  ever  blind,  for  it  seeth  not  dangers  and  incon- 
veniences ;  the'-efore,  it  is  ill  in  counsel,  good  in  exe- 
cution ;  so  that  the  right  use  of  bold  persons  is,  that 
they  never  command  in  chief,  but  be  seconds  and 
under  the  direction  of  others  ;  for  in  counsel  it  is 
good  to  see  dangers ;  and  in  execution  not  to  see 
them  except  they  be  very  great. 


XIII. —OF    GOODNESS,    AND   GOODNESS    OF 
NATURE. 

I  TAKE  goodness  in  this  sense,  the  affecting  of 
the  weal  of  men,  which  is  that  the  Grecians  call 
philanthropia ;  and  the  word  humanity,  as  it  is 
used,  is  a  little  too  light  to  express  it.  Goodness  I 
call  the  habit,  and  goodness  of  nature  the  inclina- 
tion. This,  of  all  virtues  and  dignities  of  the  mind, 
is  the  greatest,  being  the  character  of  the  Deity; 
and  without  it  man  is  a  busy,  mischievous,  wretched 
thing,  no  better  than  a  kind  of  vennin.  Goodness 
answers  to  the  theological  virtue  charity,  and  admits 
ne  excess  but  error.  The  desire  of  power  in  excess 
caused  the  angels  to  fall ;  *  the  desire  of  knowledge 

^  It  is  not  improbable  that  this  passage  suggested  Pope's  beauti* 
ful  lines  in  the  Essay  on  Man,  Ep.  1.  125-28. 

"  Pride  still  is  aimintr  at  the  blest  abodes. 
Men  would  be  angels,  angels  would  be  gods. 
Aspiring  to  be  gods,  if  angels  fell, 
Aspiring  to  be  angels,  men  rebel." 


106  ESSAYS. 

in  excess  caused  man  to  fall ;  but  in  charity  there 
is  no  excess,  neither  can  angel  or  man  come  in 
danger  by  it.  The  inclination  to  goodness  is  im- 
printed deeply  in  the  nature  of  man.  insomuch  that 
if  it  issue  not  towards  men,  it  will  '^ake  unto  other 
living  creatures ;  as  it  is  seen  in  the  Turks,  a  cruel 
people,  who  nevertheless  are  kind  to  beasts,  and 
give  alms  to  dogs  and  birds;  insomuch,  as  Busbe- 
chius  ^  reporteth,  a  Christian  boy  in  Constantinople 
had  like  to  have  been  stoned  for  gagging  in  a  wag- 
gishness  a  long-billed  fowl.^    Errors,  indeed,  in  this 

1  Auger  Gislen  Busbec,  or  Busbequius,  a  learned  traveller, 
born  at  Comines,  in  Flanders,  in  1522.  He  was  employed  by 
the  Emperor  Ferdinand  as  ambassador  to  the  Sultan  Solyman 
II.  He  was  aftenvards  ambassador  to  Fi-ance,  where  he  died,  in 
1592.  His  "  Letters  "  relative  to  his  travels  in  the  East,  which 
are  written  in  Latin,  contain  much  interesting  information.  They 
were  the  pocket  companion  of  Gibbon,  and  are  highly  praised 
by  him. 

^  In  this  instance  the  stork  or  crane  was  probably  protected, 
not  on  the  abstract  grounds  mentioned  in  the  text,  but  for  reasons 
of  state  policy  and  gratitude  combined.  In  Eastern  climates 
the  cranes  and  dogs  are  far  more  efficacious  than  human  agency  in 
removing  filth  and  offal,  and  thereby  diminishing  the  chances  of 
pestilence.  Superstition,  also,  may  have  formed  another  motive, 
as  we  learn  from  a  letter  written  from  Adrianople,  by  Lady  Mon- 
tagu, in  1718,  that  storks  were  "held  there  in  a  sort  of  religious 
reverence,  because  they  are  supposed  to  make  every  winter  the 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  To  say  truth,  they  are  the  happiest  subjects 
under  the  Turkish  government,  and  are  so  sensible  of  their  privi- 
leges, that  they  walk  the  streets  without  fear,  and  generally  build 
their  nests  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  houses.  Happy  are  those 
whose  houses  are  so  distinguished,  as  the  vulgar  Turks  are  ])er- 
fectly  persuaded  that  they  will  not  be  that  year  attacked  either 


OF  GOODNESS,  ETC.  107 

virtue,  of  goodness  or  charity,  may  be  committed. 
The  Italians  have  an  ungracious  proverb  :  "  Tanto 
buon  che  val  niente  ; "  "  So  good,  that  he  is  good 
for  nothing ;  "  and  one  of  the  doctors  of  Italy,  Nicho- 
las Machiavel,^  had  the  confidence  to  put  in  writing, 
almost  in  plain  terms,  "  That  the  Christian  faith  had 
given  up  good  men  in  prey  to  those  that  are  tyran- 
nical and  unjust ;  "^  which  he  spake,  because,  indeed, 
there  was  never  law,  or  sect,  or  opinion  did  so  much 
magnify  goodness  as  the  Christian  religion  doth; 
therefore,  to  avoid  the  scandal  and  the  danger  both, 
it  is  good  to  take  knowledge  of  the  errors  of  a  habit 
so  excellent.  Seek  the  good  of  other  men,  but  be 
not  in  bondage  to  their  faces  or  fancies  ;  for  that  is 
but  facility  or  softness,  which  taketh  an  honest  mind 

by  fire  or  pestilence."  Storks  are  still  protected,  by  municipal  law, 
in  Holland,  and  roam  unmolested  about  the  market-places. 

^  Nicolo  Machiavelli,  a  Florentine  statesman.  He  wrote  "Dis- 
courses on  the  first  Decade  of  Livy,"  which  were  conspicuous  for 
their  liberality  of  sentiment,  and  just  and  profound  reflections. 
This  work  was  succeeded  by  his  famous  treatise,  "II  Principe," 
"  The  Prince ;  "  his  patron,  Csesar  Borgia,  being  the  model  of  the 
perfect  prince  there  described  by  him.  The  whole  scope  of  this 
work  is  directed  to  one  object  —  the  maintenance  of  pov/er,  however 
acquired.  Though  its  precepts  are  no  doubt  based  upon  the  actual 
practice  of  the  Italian  politicians  of  that  day,  it  has  been  suggested 
by  some  writers  that  the  work  was  a  covert  exposure  of  the  deform- 
ity of  the  shocking  maxims  that  it  professes  to  inculcate.  The 
question  of  his  motives  has  been  mucli  discussed,  and  is  still  con- 
sidered open.  Tlie  word  "  Machiavellism "  has,  however,  been 
adopted  to  denote  all  that  is  defonned,  insincere,  and  perfidious  in 
politics.     He  died  in  great  poverty,  in  the  year  1527. 

2   Vide  Disc,  Sop.  Liv.  u.  2. 


108  ESSAYS. 

prisoner.  Neither  give  thou  ^sop's  cock  a  gem, 
who  would  be  better  pleased  and  happier  if  he  had 
had  a  barley-corn.  The  example  of  God  teacheth 
the  lesson  truly  :  "  He  sendeth  his  rain,  and  maketh 
his  sun  to  shine  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust ; "  * 
but  he  doth  not  rain  wealth,  nor  shine  honor  and 
virtues  upon  men  equally ;  common  benefits  are  to 
be  communicate  with  all,  but  peculiar  benefits  with 
choice.  And  beware  how,  in  making  the  portraiture, 
thou  breakest  the  pattern ;  for  divinity  maketh  the 
love  of  ourselves  the  pattern,  the  love  of  our  neigh- 
bors but  the  portraiture  :  "  Sell  all  thou  hast,  and 
give  it  to  the  poor,  and  follow  me ;  "  ^  but  sell  not  all 
thou  hast,  except  thou  come  and  follow  me  ;  that  is, 
except  thou  have  a  vocation  wherein  thou  mayest  do 
as  much  good  with  little  means  as  with  great ;  for 
otherwise,  in  feeding  the  streams  thou  driest  the 
fountain.  Neither  is  there  only  a  habit  of  goodness 
directed  by  right  reason,  but  there  is  in  some  men, 
even  in  nature,  a  disposition  towards  it ;  as,  on  the 
other  side,  there  is  a  natural  malignity,  for  there 
be   that   in  their  nature  do  not  affect  the  good  of 

^  St.  Matthew  v,  45.  "For  he  maketh  his  sun  rise  on  the 
evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the 
unjust." 

2  This  is  a  portion  of  our  Saviour's  reply  to  the  rich  man  who 
asked  him  what  lie  should  do  to  inherit  eternal  life :  "  Then  Jesus 
beholding  him,  loved  him,  and  said  unto  him.  One  tiling  thou 
lackest :  go  thy  way,  sell  whatsoever  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the 
poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven  ;  and  come,  take  up 
the  cross,  and  follow  me."  —  St.  Mark  x.  21. 


OF  GOODNESS,  ETC.  109 

others.  The  lighter  sort  of  malignity  turneth  but 
to  a  crossness,  or  frowardness,  or  aptness  to  oppose, 
or  difficileness,  or  the  like  ;  but  the  deeper  sort  to 
envy,  and  mere  mischief.  Such  men  in  other  men's 
calamities  are,  as  it  were,  in  season,  and  are  ever 
on  the  loading  part ;  not  so  good  as  the  dogs  that 
licked  Lazarus's  sores,^  but  like  flies  that  are  still 
buzzing  upon  any  thing  that  is  raw ;  misanthropi, 
that  make  it  their  practice  to  bring  men  to  the 
bough,  and  yet  have  never  a  tree  for  the  purpose 
in  their  gardens,  as  Timon  ^  had.  Such  dispositions 
are  the  very  errors  of  human  nature,  and  yet  they 
are  the  fittest  timber  to  make  great  politics  of ;  like 
to  knee  timber,^  that  is  good  for  ships  that  are 
ordained  to  be  tossed,  but  not  for  building  houses 
that  shall  stand  firm.  The  parts  and  signs  of  good- 
ness are  many.  If  a  man  be  gracious  and  courteous 
to  strangers,  it  shows  he  is  a  citizen  of  the  world, 

1  See  St.  Luke  xvi.  21. 

*  Timon  of  Athens,  as  he  is  generally  called  (being  so  styled  by 
Shakspeare  in  the  play  which  he  has  founded  on  his  story),  was 
surnamed  the  "Misanthrope,"  from  the  hatred  which  he  bore  to 
his  fellow-men.  He  was  attached  to  Apemantus,  another  Athenian 
of  similar  character  to  himself,  and  he  professed  to  esteem  Alci- 
biades,  because  he  foresaw  that  he  would  one  day  bring  ruin  on 
his  country.  Going  to  the  public  assemblj'  on  one  occasion,  he 
mounted  the  rostrum,  and  stated  that  he  had  a  fig-tree,  on  which 
many  worthy  citizens  had  ended  their  days  by  the  halter ;  that  he 
was  going  to  cut  it  down  for  the  purpose  of  building  on  the  spot, 
and  therefore  recommended  all  such  as  were  inclined,  to  avail 
themselves  of  it  before  it  was  too  late. 

*  A  piece  of  timber  that  has  grown  crooked,  and  has  been  so 
cut  that  the  trunk  and  branch  form  an  angle. 


110  ESSAYS. 

and  that  his  heart  is  no  island  cut  off  from  other 
lands,  but  a  continent  that  joins  to  them ;  if  he  be 
compassionate  towards  the  afflictions  of  others,  it 
shows  that  his  heart  is  like  the  noble  tree  that  is 
wounded  itself  when  it  gives  the  balm ;  ^  if  he  easily 
pardons  and  remits  offences,  it  shows  that  his  mind 
is  planted  above  injuries,  so  that  he  cannot  be  shot ; 
if  he  be  thankful  for  small  benefits,  it  shows  that  he 
weighs  men's  minds,  and  not  their  trash ;  but,  above 
all,  if  he  have  St.  Paul's  perfection,  that  he  would 
wish  to  be  an  anathema^  from  Christ  for  the  salva^ 
tion  of  his  brethren,  it  shows  much  of  a  divine  nature, 
and  a  kind  of  conformity  with  Christ  himself. 


/ 


XIV.  — OF  NOBILITY. 

We  will  speak  of  nobility,  first,  as  a  portion  of  an 
estate,  then  as  a  condition  of  particular  persons.  A 
monarchy,  where  there  is  no  nobility  at  all,  is  ever 
a  pure  and  absolute  tyranny  as  that  of  the  Turks; 
for  nobility  attempers   sovereignty,  and  draws   the 

^  He  probably  here  refers  to  the  myi-th-tree.  Incision  is  the 
method  usually  adopted  for  extracting  the  resinous  juices  of  trees  ; 
as  in  the  India-rubber  and  gutta-percha  trees. 

2  "A  votive,"  and,  in  the  present  instance,  a  "vicarious  offer- 
ing." He  alludes  to  the  words  of  St.  Paul  in  his  Second  Ejiistle 
to  Timothy  ii.  10:  "Therefore  I  endure  all  things  for  the  elect's 
sake,  that  they  may  also  obtain  the  salvation  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  with  eternal  glory." 


OF  NOBILITY.  Ill 

eyes  of  the  people  somewhat  aside  from  the  line 
royal :  but  for  democracies  they  need  it  not ;  and 
they  are  commonly  more  quiet  and  less  subject  to 
sedition  than  where  there  are  stirps  of  nobles ;  for 
men's  eyes  are  upon  the  business,  and  not  upon  the 
persons  ;  or  if  upon  the  persons,  it  is  for  the  business 
sake,  as  fittest,  and  not  for  flags  and  pedigree.  We 
see  the  Switzers  last  well,  notwithstanding  their 
diversity  of  religion  and  of  cantons ;  for  utility  is 
their  bond,  and  not  respects.^  The  United  Provinces 
of  the  Low  Countries  ^  in  their  government  excel ; 
for  where  there  is  an  equality  the  consultations  are 
more  indifferent,  and  the  payments  and  tributes  more 
cheerful.  A  great  and  potent  nobility  addeth  ma- 
jesty to  a  monarch,  but  diminisheth  power,  and  put- 
teth  life  and  spirit  into  the  people,  but  presseth  their 
fortune.  It  is  well  when  nobles  are  not  too  great 
for  sovereignty  nor  for  justice;  and  yet  maintained 
in  that  height,  as  the  insolency  of  inferiors  may  be 
broken  upon  them,  before  it  come  on  too  fast  upon 
the  majesty  of  kings.  A  numerous  nobility  causeth 
poverty  and  inconvenience  in  a  state,  for  it  is  a  sur- 
charge of  expense  ;  and  besides,  it  being  of  necessity 
that  many  of  the  nobility  fall  in  time  to  be  weak  in 
fortune,  it  maketh  a  kind  of  disproportion  between 
honor  and  means. 

'  Consideration  of,  or  predilection  for,  particular  persons. 

S  The  Low  Countries  had  then  recently  emancipated  themselves 
from  the  galling  yoke  of  Spain.  They  were  called  the  Seven  United 
Provinces  of  the  Netherlands. 


( 


112  ESSAYS. 

As  for  nobility  in  particular  persons,  it  is  a  rever- 
end thing  to  see  an  ancient  castle  or  building  not 
in  decay,  or  to  see  a  fair  timber-tree  sound  and 
perfect ;  how  much  more  to  behold  an  ancient  noble 
family,  which  hath  stood  against  the  waves  and 
weathers  of  time  !  For  new  nobility  is  but  the  act  of 
power,  but  ancient  nobility  is  the  act  of  time.  Those 
that  are  first  raised  to  nobility  are  commonly  more 
virtuous,^  but  less  innocent  than  their  descendants ; 
for  there  is  rarely  any  rising  but  by  a  commixture 
of  good  and  evil  arts;  but  it  is  reason  the  memory 
of  their  virtues  remain  to  their  posterity,  and  their 
faults  die  with  themselves.  Nobility  of  birth  com- 
monly abateth  industry,  and  he  that  is  not  indus- 
trious, envieth  him  that  is;  besides,  noble  persons 
cannot  go  much  higher ;  and  he  that  standeth  at  a 
stay  when  others  rise,  can  hardly  avoid  motions  of 
envy.  On  the  other  side,  nobility  extinguisheth  the 
passive  envy  from  others  towards  them,  because  they 
are  in  possession  of  honor.  Certainly,  kings  that 
have  able  men  of  their  nobility  shall  find  ease  in 
employing  them,  and  a  better  slide  into  their  busi- 

f  ness ;  for  people  naturally  bend  to  them,  as  born 

Vin  some  sort  to  command. 

1  This  passage  may  at  first  sight  appear  somewhat  contradic- 
tory ;  but  he  means  to  say,  that  those  who  are  first  ennobled  will 
commonly  be  found  more  conspicuous  for  the  proiuinence  of  their 
qualities,  both  good  and  bad. 

^  Consistent  with  reason  and  justice. 


OF  SEDITIONS  AND  TROUBLES.  II3 


XV.  — OF  SEDITIONS  AND  TROUBLES. 

Shepherds  of  people  had  need  know  the  cal- 
endars of  tempests  in  state,  which  are  commonly 
greatest  when  things  grow  to  equality;  as  natural 
tempests  are  greatest  about  the  equinoctia/  and  as 
there  are  certain  hollow  blasts  of  wind  and  secret 
swellings  of  seas  before  a  tempest,  so  are  there  in 
states :  — 

"  Ille  etiam  csecos  iustare  tumultus 
Saepe  monet,  fraudesque  et  operta  tnmescere  bella."  2 

Libels  and  licentious  discourses  against  the  state, 
when  they  are  frequent  and  open ;  and  in  like  sort 
false  news,  often  running  up  and  down,  to  the  disad- 
vantage of  the  state,  and  hastily  embraced,  are 
amongst  the  signs  of  troubles.  Virgil,  giving  the 
pedigree  of  Fame,  saith  she  was  sister  to  the 
giants :  — 

"  lUam  Terra  parens,  ira  irritata  Deorum, 
Extremam  (ut  perhibent)  Cceo  Enceladoque  sororem 
Progenuit."  * 

As  if  fames  were  the  relics  of  seditions  past; 
but  they  are  no  less  indeed  the  preludes  of  sedi- 
tions to  come.     Howsoever,  he  noteth  it  right,  that 

^  The  periods  of  the  Equinoxes. 

2  "He  often  warns,  too,  that  secret  revolt  is  impending,  that 
treachery  and  open  warfare  are  ready  to  burst  forth." — Virg. 
GeorQ.  i.  465. 

*  "  Mother  Earth,  exasperated  at  the  wrath  of  the  Deities,  pro- 
duced her,  as  they  tell,  a  last  birth,  a  sister  to  the  giants  Coeus, 
and  Enceladus." —  Virg.  JEn.  iv.  179. 

8 


114  ESSAYS. 

seditious  tumults  and  seditious  fames  differ  no  more 
but  as  brother  and  sister,  masculine  and  feminine; 
especially  if  it  come  to  that,  that  the  best  actions  of 
a  state,  and  the  most  plausible,  and  which  ought  to 
give  greatest  contentment,  are  taken  in  ill  sense, 
and  traduced;  for  that  shows  the  envy  great,  as 
Tacitus  saith,  "Conflate  magn^  invidiS,  seu  bene, 
seu  male,  gesta  premunt."  ^  Neither  doth  it  follow, 
that  because  these  fames  are  a  sign  of  troubles,  that 
the  suppressing  of  them  with  too  much  severity 
should  be  a  remedy  of  troubles;  for  the  despising 
of  them  many  times  cliccks  them  best,  and  the 
going  about  to  stop  them  doth  but  make  a  wonder 
long-lived.  Also  that  kind  of  obedience,  which  Taci- 
tus speaketh  of,  is  to  be  held  suspected :  "  Eraiit 
in  officio,  sed  tamen  qui  mallent  imperantium  man- 
data  interpretari,  quam  exsequi ; "  ^  disputing,  ex- 
cusing, cavilling  upon  mandates  and  directions,  is 
a  kind  of  shaking  off  the  yoke,  and  assay  of  dis- 
obedience ;  especially  if,  in  those  disputings,  they 
which  are  for  the  direction  speak  fearfully  and  ten- 
derly, and  those  that  are  against  it  audaciously. 

1  "  Great  public  odium  once  excited,  his  deeds,  whether  good 
or  whether  bad,  cause  his  downfall."  Bacon  has  here  quoted 
incorrectly,  probably  from  memory.  The  words  of  Tacitus  are 
(Hist.  B.  i.  C.  7),:  "  Inviso  semel  principe,  seu  bene,  seu  male, 
facta  premunt," —  "  The  ruler  once  detested,  his  actions,  whether 
good  or  whether  bad,  cause  his  downfall." 

2  ♦'  They  attended  to  their  duties  ;  but  still,  as  prefeiring  rather 
to  discuss  the  commands  of  their  rulers,  than  to  obey  them."  — ■ 
Tac.  Hist.  ii.  39. 


OF   SEDITIONS   AND  TROUBLES.  115 

Also,  as  Machiavel  noteth  well,  when  princes, 
that  ought  to  be  common  parents,  make  themselves 
as  a  party,  and  lean  to  a  side ;  it  is  as  a  boat  that 
is  overthrown  by  uneven  weight  on  the  one  side, 
as  was  well  seen  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  Third  of 
France ;  for  first  himself  entered  league  ^  for  the 
extirpation  of  the  Protestants,  ai\d  presently  after 
the  same  league  was  turned  upon  himself;  for  when 
the  authority  of  princes  is  made  but  an  accessary  to 
a  cause,  and  that  there  be  other  bands  that  tie  faster 
than  the  band  of  sovereignty,  kings  begin  to  be  put 
almost  out  of  possession. 

Also,  when  discords,  and  quarrels,  and  factions 
are  carried  openly  and  audaciously,  it  is  a  sign  the 
reverence  of  government  is  lost ;  for  the  motions  of 
the  greatest  persons  in  a  government  ought  to  be  as 
tlie  motions  of  the  planets  under  "  primum  mobile,"  ^ 
according  to  the  old  opinion,  which  is,  that  every  of 
them  is  carried  swiftly  by  the  highest  motion,  and 
softly  in  their  own  motion ;  and  therefore,  when 
great  ones  in  their  own  particular  motion  move 
violently,  and  as  Tacitus  expresseth  it  well,  "  liberius 

•  He  alludes  to  the  bad  policy  of  Henry  the  Third  of  France, 
who  espoused  the  part  of  "The  League,"  which  was  formed  by 
the  Duke  of  Guise  and  other  Catholics  for  the  extirpation  of  the 
Protestant  faith.  When  too  late  he  discovered  his  error,  and 
finding  his  own  authority  entirely  superseded,  he  caused  the 
Duke  of  Guise  and  the  Cardinal  De  Lorraine,  his  brother,  to 
be  assassinated. 

^  "  The  primary  motive  power."  He  alludes  to  an  imaginary 
centre  of  gravitation,  or  central  body,  which  was  supposed  to  set 
all  the  other  heavenly  bodies  in  motion. 


116  ESSAYS. 

quam  ut  irnperantium  meminissent,"  ^  it  is  a  sign  the 
orbs  are  out  of  frame  ;  for  reverence  is  that  where- 
with princes  are  girt  from  God,  who  threateneth  tlie 
dissolving  thereof:  "  Solvam  cingula  regum."  ^ 

So  when  any  of  the  four  pillars  of  government 
are  mainly  shaken  or  weakened  (which  are  religion, 
justice,  counsel,  and  treasure),  men  had  need  to  pray 
for  fair  weather.  But  let  us  pass  from  this  part 
of  predictions  (concerning  which,  nevertheless,  more 
light  may  be  taken  from  that  which  followeth),  and 
let  us  speak  fii-st  of  the  materials  of  seditions ;  then 
of  the  motives  of  them ;  and  thirdly  of  the  remedies. 

Concerning  the  materials  of  seditions,  it  is  a  thing 
well  to  be  considered,  for  the  surest  way  to  prevent 
seditions  (if  the  times  do  bear  it),  is  to  take  away 
the  matter  of  them ;  for  if  there  be  fuel  prepared, 
it  is  hard  to  tell  whence  the  spark  shall  come  that 
shall  set  it  on  fire.  The  matter  of  seditions  is  of 
two  kinds,  much  poverty  and  much  discontentment. 
It  is  certain,  so  many  overthrown  estates,  so  many 
votes  for  troubles.  Lucan  noteth  well  the  state  of 
Rome  before  the  civil  war :  — 

"  Hinc  usura  vorax,  rapidumque  in  tempore  foenus, 
Hinc  concussa  fides,  et  multis  utile  bellum."  * 

1  "  Too  freely  to  remember  their  own  rulers." 

2  "  I  will  unloose  the  girdles  of  kings."  He  probably  alludes 
here  to  the  first  verse  of  the  45th  chapter  of  Isaiah  :  "  Thus  saitb 
the  Lord  to  his  anointed,  to  Cyrus,  whose  right  hand  I  have  holdeu, 
to  subdue  nations  before  him  ;  and  I  will  loose  the  loins  of  kings, 
t»  open  before  }iim  the  two-leaved  gates." 

•  *'  Hence  devouring  v^ury,  and  interest  accumulating  in  lapse 


OF  SEDITIONS  AND  TROUBLES.  117 

This  same  "  multis  utile  bellum,"  ^  is  an  assured 
and  infallible  sign  of  a  state  disposed  to  seditions 
and  troubles ;  and  if  this  poverty  and  broken  estate 
in  the  better  sort  be  joined  with  a  want  and  neces- 
sity in  the  mean  people,  the  danger  is  imminent 
and  great;  for  the  rebellions  of  the  belly  are  the 
worst.  As  for  discontentments,  they  are  in  the 
politic  body  like  to  humors  in  the  natural,  which 
are  apt  to  gather  a  preternatural  heat  and  to  in- 
flame ;  and  let  no  prince  measure  the  danger  of 
them  by  this,  whether  they  be  just  or  unjust ;  for 
that  were  to  imagine  people  to  be  too  reasonable, 
who  do  often  spurn  at  their  own  good ;  nor  yet  by 
this,  whether  the  griefs  whereupon  they  rise  be  in 
fact  great  or  small ;  for  they  are  the  most  danger- 
ous discontentments  where  the  fear  is  greater  than 
the  feeling  :  "  Dolendi  modus,  timendi  non  item."  ^ 
Besides,  in  great  oppressions,  the  same  things  that 
provoke  the  patience,  do  withal  mate  ^  the  courage  ; 
but  in  fears  it  is  not  so ;  neither  let  any  prince  or 
state  be  secure  concerning  discontentments,  because 
they  have  been  often  or  have  been  long,  and  yet 
no  peril  hath  ensued;  for  as  it  is  true  that  every 
vapor  or  fiime  doth  not  turn  into  a  storm,  so  it  is 
nevertheless   true  that    storms,   though  they  blow 

of  time  ;  hence  shaken  credit,  and  warfare,  profitable  to  the  many.' 
—  LvAuin.  Phars.  1.  181. 

1  "  Warfare  profitable  to  the  manj'." 

2  "  To  grief  there  is  a  limit,  not  so  to  fear." 
8  "Check,"  or  "daunt." 


118  ESSAYS. 

over  divers  times,  yet  may  fall  at  last ;  and,  as  the 
Spanish  proverb  noteth  well,  "  The  cord  breaketh 
at  the  last  by  the  weakest  pull."^ 

The  causes  and  motives  of  seditions  are,  innova- 
tion in  religion,  taxes,  alteration  of  laws  and  cus- 
toms, breaking  of  privileges,  general  oppression,  ad- 
vancement of  unworthy  persons,  strangers,  dearths, 
disbanded  soldiers,  factions  grown  desperate,  and 
whatsoever  in  offending  people  joineth  and  knitteth 
them  in  a  common  cause. 

For  the  remedies,  there  may  be  some  general 
preservatives,  whereof  we  will  speak ;  as  for  the 
just  cure,  it  must  answer  to  the  particular  disease, 
and  so  be  left  to  counsel  rather  than  rule. 

The  first  remedy,  or  prevention,  is  to  remove,  by 
all  means  possible,  that  material  cause  of  sedition 
whereof  we  spake,  which  is,  want  and  poverty  in 
the  estate ;  ^  to  which  purpose  serveth  the  opening 
and  well-balancing  of  trade ;  the  cherishing  of  manu- 
factures ;  the  banishing  of  idleness ;  the  repressing 
of  waste  and  excess  by  sumptuary  laws ;  ^  the  im- 
provement and  husbanding  of  the  soil ;  the  regu- 
lating of  prices  of  things  vendible;  the  moderating 
of  taxes  and  tributes,  and  the  like.     Generally,  it  is 

1  This  is  similar  to  the  proverb  now  in  common  use  :  "  'T  is  the 
last  feather  that  breaks  the  back  of  the  camel." 

2  The  state. 

8  Though  .sumptuary  laws  are  probably  just  in  theory,  they  have 
been  found  impracticable  in  any  other  than  iufant  states.  Their 
principle,  however,  is  certainly  recognized  in  such  countries  as 
by  statutory  enactment  discountenance  gaming.     Those  who  are 


OF  SEDITIONS  AND  TROUBLES.  119 

to  be  foreseen  that  the  population  of  a  kingdom 
(especially  if  it  be  not  mown  down  by  wars)  do  not 
exceed  the  stock  of  the  kingdom  which  should  main- 
tain them ;  neither  is  the  population  to  be  reck- 
oned only  by  number ;  for  a  smaller  number,  that 
spend  more  and  earn  less,  do  wear  out  an  estate 
sooner  than  a  greater  number  that  live  lower  and 
gather  more.  Therefore  the  multiplying  of  nobility 
and  other  degrees  of  quality,  in  an  over-proportion 
to  the  common  people,  doth  speedily  bring  a  state 
to  necessity ;  and  so  doth  likewise  an  overgrown 
clergy,  for  they  bring  nothing  to  the  stock  ;  ^  and 
in  like  manner,  when  more  are  bred  scholars  than 
preferments  can  take  off. 

It  is  likewise  to  be  remembered,  that,  forasmuch 
as  the  increase  of  any  estate  must  be  upon  the  for- 
eigner ^  (for  whatsoever  is  somewhere  gotten  is  some- 
where lost),  there  be  but  three  things  which  one 
nation  selleth  unto  another;  the  commodity,  as 
nature  yieldeth  it ;  the  manufacture  ;  and  the  vec- 
ture,  oi  carriage ;  so  that,  if  these  three  wheels  go, 
wealth  will  flow  as  in  a  spring  tide.  And  it  cometh 
many    times    to   pass,   that,    "  materiam    superabit 

opposed  to  such  laws  upon  principle,  would  do  well  to  look  into 
Bernard  Mandeville's  "  Fable  of  the  Bees,"  or  "  Private  Vices 
Public  Benefits. "  The  Romans  had  numerous  siimptuary  laws, 
and  in  the  Middle  Ages  there  were  many  enactments  in  this 
country  against  excess  of  expenditure  upon  wearing  apparel  and 
the  pleasures  of  the  table. 

^  He  means  that  they  do  not  add  to  the  capital  of  the  country. 

*  At  the  expense  of  foreign  countries. 


120  ESSAYS. 

opus,"  ^  that  the  work  and  carriage  is  more  worth 
than  the  material,  and  enricheth  a  state  more  ;  as 
is  notably  seen  in  the  Low  Countrymen,  who  have 
the  best  mines  ^  above  ground  in  the  world. 

Above  all  things,  good  policy  is  to  be  used,  that 
the  treasure  and  moneys  in  a  state  be  not  gathered 
into  few  hands  ;  for,  otherwise,  a  state  may  have  a 
great  stock,  and  yet  starve.  And  money  is  like 
muck,^  not  good  except  it  be  spread.  This  is  done 
chiefly  by  suppressing,  or,  at  the  least,  keeping  a 
strait  hand  upon  the  devouring  trades  of  usury,  en- 
grossing ^  great  pasturages,  and  the  like. 

For  removing  discontentments,  or,  at  least,  the 
danger  of  them,  there  is  in  every  state  (as  we 
know)  two  portions  of  subjects,  the  nobles  and  the 
commonalty.  When  one  of  these  is  discontent,  tlie 
danger  is  not  great ;  for  common  people  are  of  slow 
motion,  if  they  be  not  excited  by  the  greater  sort ; 
and  the  greater  sort  are  of  small  strength,  except 
the  multitude  be  apt  and  ready  to  move  of  them- 
selves ;  then  is  the  danger,  when  the  greater  sort 

1  "The  workmanship  will  surpass  the  material."  —  Ovid,  Met. 
B.  ii.  1.  5. 

'■'  He  alludes  to  the  manufactures  of  the  Low  Countries. 

8  Like  manure. 

*  Sometimes  printed  engrossing,  great  pasturages.  By  engross- 
ing, is  meant  the  trade  of  engrossers — men  who  buy  up  all  that 
can  be  got  of  a  particular  commodity,  then  raise  the  price.  By 
great  pasturages  is  meant  turning  com  land  into  pasture.  Of 
this  practice  great  complaints  had  1>een  made  for  near  a  century 
before  Bacon's  time,  and  a  law  ]iassed  to  prevent  it.  —  See  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury's  History  of  Henry  VIII. 


OF   SEDITIONS  AND   TROUBLES.  121 

do  but  wait  for  the  troubling  of  the  waters  amongst 
the  meaner,  that  then  they  may  declare  themselves. 
The  poets  feign  that  the  rest  of  the  gods  would 
have  bound  Jupiter,  which  he  hearing  of,  by  the 
counsel  of  Pallas,  sent  for  Briareus,  with  his  hun- 
dred hands,  to  come  in  to  his  aid ;  an  emblem,  no 
doubt,  to  show  how  safe  it  is  for  monarchs  to  make 
sure  of  the  good-will  of  common  people. 

To  give  moderate  liberty  for  griefs  and  discon- 
tentments to  evaporate  (so  it  be  without  too  great 
insolency  or  bravery),  is  a  safe  way ;  for  he  that 
tumeth  the  humors  back,  and  maketh  the  wound 
bleed  inwards,  endangereth  malign  ulcers  and  per- 
nicious imposthumations. 

The  part  of  Epimetheus  ^  might  well  become 
Prometheus,  in  the  case  of  discontentments,  for 
there  is  not  a  better  provision  against  them.  Epi- 
metheus, when  griefs  and  evils  flew  abroad,  at  last 
shut  the  lid,  and  kept  Hope  in  the  bottom  of  the 
vessel.     Certainly,  the  politic  and  artificial  nourish- 

1  The  myth  of  Pandora's  box,  which  is  here  referred  to,  is 
related  in  the  Works  and  Days  of  Hesiod.  Epimetheus  was 
the  personification  of  "  Afterthought,"  while  his  brother  Prome- 
theus represented  "Forethought,"  or  prudence.  It  was  not 
Epimetheus  that  opened  the  box,  but  Pandora  —  "All-gift," 
whom,  contrary  to  the  advice  of  his  brother,  he  had  received  at 
the  hands  of  Mercury,  and  had  made  his  wife.  In  their  house 
stood  a  closed  jar,  which  they  were  forbidden  to  open.  Till  her 
arrival,  this  had  been  kept  untouched  ;  but  her  curiosity  prompt- 
ing her  to  open  the  lid,  all  the  evils  hitlierto  unknown  to  man 
flew  out  and  spread  over  the  earth,  and  she  only  shut  it  down 
in  time  to  prevent  the  escape  of  Hope. 


122  ESSAYS. 

ing  and  entertaining  of  hopes,  and  carrying  men  from 
hopes  to  hopes,  is  one  of  the  best  antidotes  against 
the  poison  of  discontentments;  and  it  is  a  certain 
sign  of  a  wise  government  and  proceeding,  when  it 
can  hold  men's  hearts  by  hopes,  when  it  cannot  by 
satisfaction ;  and  when  it  can  handle  things  in  such 
manner  as  no  evil  shall  appear  so  peremptory,  but 
that  it  hath  some  outlet  of  hope ;  which  is  the  less 
hard  to  do,  because  both  particular  persona  and  fac- 
tions are  apt  enough  to  flatter  themselves,  or  at 
least  to  brave  that  which  they  believe  not. 

Also  the  foresight  and  prevention,  that  there  be 
no  likely  or  fit  head  whereunto  discontented  persons 
may  resort,  and  under  whom  they  may  join,  is  a 
known  but  an  excellent  point  of  caution.  I  under- 
stand a  fit  head  to  be  one  that  hath  greatness  and 
reputation,  that  hath  confidence  with  the  discon- 
tented party,  and  upon  whom  they  turn  their  eyes, 
and  that  is  thought  discontented  in  his  own  par- 
ticular :  which  kind  of  persons  are  either  to  be  won 
and  reconciled  to  the  state,  and  that  in  a  fast  and 
true  manner ;  or  to  be  fronted  with  some  other  of 
the  same  party  that  may  oppose  them,  and  so  di- 
vide the  reputation.  Generally,  the  dividing  and 
breaking  of  all  factions  and  combinations  that  are 
adverse  to  the  state,  and  setting  them  at  distance, 
or,  at  least,  distrust  amongst  themselves,  is  not  one 
of  the  worst  remedies ;  for  it  is  a  desperate  case,  if 
those  that  hold  with  the  proceeding  of  the  state  be 
full  of  discord  and  faction,  and  those  that  are  against 
it  be  entire  and  united. 


OF  SEDITIONS  AND  TROUBLES.  123 

I  have  noted,  that  some  witty  and  sharp  speeches, 
which  have  fallen  from  princes,  have  given  fire  to 
seditions.  Caesar  did  himself  infinite  hurt  in  that 
speech  — "  Sylla  nescivit  literas,  non  potuit  die- 
tare  , "  ^  for  it  did  utterly  cut  off  that  hope  which 
men  had  entertained,  that  he  would,  at  one  time  or 
other,  give  over  his  dictatorship.  Galba  undid  himself 
by  that  speech,  "  Legi  a  se  militem,  non  emi ; "  ^  for  it 
put  the  soldiers  out  of  hope  of  the  donative.  Probus, 
likewise,  by  that  speech,  "  Si  vixero,  non  opus  erit 
amplius  Romano  imperio  militibus ;  "  ^  a  speech  of 
great  despair  for  the  soldiers,  and  many  the  like. 
Surely  princes  had  need,  in  tender  matters  and 
ticklish  times,  to  beware  what  they  say,  especially 
in  these  short  speeches,  which  fly  abroad  like  darts, 
and  are  thought  to  be  shot  out  of  their  secret  in- 
tentions ;  for  as  for  large  discourses,  they  are  flat 
things,  and  not  so  much  noted. 

1  "Sylla  did  not  know  his  letters,  and  so  he  could  not  dictate." 
This  saying  is  attributed  by  Suetonius  to  Julius  Caesar.  It  is  a 
play  on  the  Latin  verb  dictare,  which  means  either  "to  dictate," 
or  "to  act  the  part  of  Dictator,"  according  to  the  context.  As 
this  saying  was  presumed  to  be  a  reflection  on  Sylla's  ignorance, 
and  to  imply  that  by  reason  thereof  he  was  unable  to  maintain 
his  power,  it  was  concluded  by  the  Roman  people  that  Caesar, 
who  was  an  elegant  scholar,  feeling  himself  subject  to  no  such 
inability,  did  not  intend  speedily  to  yield  the  reins  of  power.  — 
Sxiet.    Fit.  C.  Jul.   Cces.  77,  i.  and  Cf.  A.  L.  i.  vii.  12. 

2  "That  soldiers  were  levied  by  him,  not  bought." —  Tac.  Hist. 
i.  5. 

^  "  If  I  live,  there  shall  no  longer  be  need  of  soldiers  in  the 
Roman  empire."  —  Flav.  Fop.  Fit.  Prob.  20. 


124  ESSAYS. 

Lastly,  let  princes,  against  all  events,  not  be 
without  some  great  person,  one  or  rather  more,  of 
military  valor,  near  unto  them,  for  the  repressing  of 
seditions  in  their  beginnings ;  for  without  that,  there 
useth  to  be  more  trepidation  in  court  upon  the  first 
breaking  out  of  troubles  than  were  fit,  and  the  state 
runneth  the  danger  of  that  which  Tacitus  saith : 
"Atque  is  habitus  animorum  fuit,  ut  pessimum 
facinus  auderent  pauci,  plures  vellent,  omnes  pater- 
entur : "  ^  but  let  such  military  persons  be  assured, 
and  well  reputed  of,  rather  than  factious  and  popu- 
lar ;  holding  also  good  correspondence  with  the  other 
great  men  in  the  state,  or  else  the  remedy  is  worse 
than  the  disease. 


VXVI.  — OF  ATHEISM. 

I  HAD  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in  the  legends,^ 
and  the  Talmud,^  and  the  Alcoran,  than  that  this 
universal  frame  is  without  a  mind;  and,  therefore, 
God  never  wrought   miracle   to   convince   atheism, 

1  "  And  such  was  the  state  of  feeling,  that  a  few  dared  to  per- 
petrate the  worst  of  crimes ;  more  wished  to  do  so ;  all  submitted 
to  it."  — Hist,  i,  28. 

^  He  probably  alludes  to  the  legends  or  miraculous  stories  of 
the  saints  ;  such  as  walking  with  their  heads  off,  preaching  to  the 
fishes,  sailing  over  the  sea  on  a  cloak,  &c.  &c. 

'  This  is  a  book  that  contains  the  Jewish  traditions,  and  the 
rabbinical  explanations  of  the  law.  It  is  replete  with  wonderful 
narratives. 


OF  ATHEISM.  125 

because  his  ordinary  works  convince  it.  It  is  tnie,\ 
that  a  little  philosophy^  inclineth^  man's  mind  to 
atheism,  but  depth  in  philosophy  bringeth  men's 
minds  about  to  religion ;  for  while  the  mind  of  man 
looketh  upon  second  causes  scattered,  it  may  some- 
times rest  in  them,  and  go  no  further ;  but  when  it 
beholdeth  the  chain  of  them  confederate,  and  linked 
together,  it  must  needs  fly  to  Providence  and  Deity. ' 
Nay,  even  that  school  which  is  most  accused  of 
atheism,  doth  most  demonstrate  religion:  that  is, 
the  school  of  Leucippus,^  and  Democritus,^  and 
Epicurus;  for  it  is  a  thousand  times  more  credible 
that  four  mutable  elements,  and  one  immutable  fifth 
essence,^  duly  and  eternally  placed,  need  no  God, 
than  that  an  army  of  infinite  small  portions,  or  seeds 
unplaced,  should  have  produced  this  order  and 
beauty  without  a  divine  marshal.  The  Scripture 
saith,  "The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  there  is  no 

1  This  passage  not  improbably  contains  the  germ  of  Pope's 
famous  lines  :  — 

"A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing  ; 
Drink  deep,  or  taste  not  the  Pierian  spring." 

2  A  pliilosopher  of  Abdera ;  the  fii-st  who  taught  the  system  of 
atoms,  which  was  afterwards  more  fully  developed  by  Democritus 
and  Epicurus. 

'  He  was  a  disciple  of  the  last-named  philosopher,  and  held 
the  same  principles  ;  he  also  denied  the  existence  of  the  soul 
after  death.  He  is  considered  to  have  been  the  parent  of  experi- 
mental philosophy,  and  was  the  first  to  teach,  what  is  now  con- 
firmed by  science,  that  the  Milky  Way  is  an  accumulation  of 
stars. 

♦  Spirit. 


126  ESSAYS. 

God ; "  ^  it  is  not  said,  "  The  fool  hath  thought  in  his 
heart ;  "  so  as  he  rather  saith  it  by  rote  to  himself, 
as  that  he  would  have,  than  that  he  can  thoroughly 
believe  it,  or  be  persuaded  of  it ;  for  none  deny  there 
is  a  God,  but  those  for  whom  it  maketh  ^  that  there 
were  no  God.  It  appeareth  in  nothing  more,  that 
atheism  is  rather  in  the  lip  than  in  the  heart  of  man, 
than  by^his,  that  atheists  will  ever  be  talking  of  that 
their  opinion,  as  if  they  fainted  in  it  within  them- 
selves, and  would  be  glad  to  be  strengthened  by  the 
consent  of  others ;  nay  more,  you  shall  have  atheists 
strive  to  get  disciples,  as  it  fareth  with  other  sects ; 
and,  which  is  most  of  all,  you  shall  have  of  them 
that  will  suffer  for  atheism,  and  not  recant ;  whereas, 
if  they  did  truly  think  that  there  were  no  such  thing 
as  God,  why  should  they  trouble  themselves  ?  Epi- 
curus is  charged,  that  he  did  but  dissemble  for  his 
credit's  sake,  when  he  aflfirmed  there  were  blessed 
natures,  but  such  as  enjoyed  themselves  without 
having  respect  to  the  government  of  the  world. 
Wherein  they  say  he  did  temporize,  though  in  secret 
he  thought  there  was  no  God;  but  certainly  he  is 
traduced,  for  his  words  are  noble  and  divine :  "  Non 
Deos  vulgi  negare  profanum  ;  sed  vulgi  opiniones 
Diis  applicare  profanum."^     Plato  could  have  said 

^  Psalm  xiv.  1,  and  liii.  1. 

2  To  whose  (seeming)  advantage  it  is  ;  the  wish  being  father 
to  the  thought. 

*  "It  is  not  profane  to  deny  the  existence  of  the  deities  of  the 
vulgar ;  but,  to  apply  to  the  divinities  the  received  notions  of  the 
vulgar,  is  profane."  —  Diog.  Laert.  x.  123. 


OF  ATHEISM.  127 

no  more;  and,  although  he  had  the  confidence  to 
deny  the  administration,  he  had  not  the  power  to 
deny  the  nature.  The  Indians^  of  the  west  have 
names  for  their  particular  gods,  though  they  have 
no  name  for  God;  as  if  the  heathens  should  have 
had  the  names  Jupiter,  Apollo,  Mars,  &c.,  but  not 
the  word  Deus,  which  shows  that  even  those  bar- 
barous people  have  the  notion,  though  they  have 
not  the  latitude  and  extent  of  it ;  bo  that  against 
atheists  the  very  savages  take  part  with  the  very 
subtlest  philosophei's.  The  contemplative  atheist  is 
rare  ;  a  Diagoras,^  a  Bion,^  a  Lucian,*  perhaps,  and 
some  others,  and  yet  they  seem  to  be  more  than  they 
are;  for  that  all  that  impugn  a  received  religion, 
or  superstition,  are,  by  the  adverse  part,  branded 
with  the  name  of  atheists.  But  the  great  atheists 
indeed  are  hypocrites,  which  are  ever  handling  holy 
things,  but  without  feeling,  so  as  they  must  needs  be 

1  He  alludes  to  the  native  tribes  of  the  continent  of  America  and 
the  West  Indies. 

2  He  was  an  Athenian  philosopher,  who,  from  the  greatest 
superstition,  became  an  avowed  atheist.  He  was  proscribed  by 
the  Areiopagus  for  speaking  against  the  gods  with  ridicule  and 
contempt,  and  is  supposed  to  have  died  at  Corinth. 

*  A  Greek  philosopher,  a  disciple  of  Theodoras  the  atheist,  to 
whose  opinions  he  adhered.  His  life  was  said  to  have  been  profli- 
gate, and  his  death  superstitious. 

*  Lucian  ridiculed  the  follies  and  pretensions  of  Bome  of  the 
ancient  philosophers  ;  but  though  the  freedom  of  his  style  was 
such  as  to  cause  him  to  be  censured  for  impiety,  he  hardly  de- 
serves the  stigma  of  atheism  here  cast  upon  him  by  the  learned 
author. 


128  ESSAYS. 

cauterized  in  the  end.  The  causes  of  atheism  are: 
di\'ision8  in  religion,  if  they  be  many ;  for  any  one 
main  division  addeth  zeal  to  both  sides,  but  many 
divisions  introduce  atheism.  Another  is,  scandal  of 
priests,  when  it  is  come  to  that  which  St.  Bernard 
saith:  "Non  est  jam  dicere,  ut  populus,  sic  sacerdos; 
quia  nee  sic  populus,  ut  sacerdos."  ^  A  third  is, 
custom  of  profane  scoffing  in  holy  matters,  which 
doth  by  little  and  little  deface  the  reverence  of 
religion :  and  lastly,  learned  times,  specially  with 
peace  and  prosperity ;  for  troubles  and  adversities 
do  more  bow  men's  minds  to  religion.  They  that 
deny  a  God  destroy  a  man's  nobility,  for  certainly 
man  is  of  kin  to  the  beasts  by  his  body ;  and  if  he 
be  not  of  kin  to  God  by  his  spirit,  he  is  a  base  and 
ignoble  creature.  It  destroys  likewise  magnanimity, 
and  the  raising  of  human  nature;  for,  take  an  ex- 
ample of  a  dog,  and  mark  what  a  generosity  and 
courage  he  will  put  on  when  he  finds  himself  main- 
tained by  a  man,  who,  to  him,  is  instead  of  a  God, 
or  "  melior  natura ; "  ^  which  courage  is  manifestly 
such  as  that  creature,  without  that  confidence  of  a 
better  nature  than  his  own,  could  never  attain.     So 

*  "  It  is  not  for  us  now  to  say,  '  Like  priest  like  people,'  for 
the  people  are  not  even  so  bad  as  the  priest. "  St.  Bernard,  abbot 
of  Clairvaux,  preached  the  second  Crusade  against  the  Saracens, 
and  was  unsparing  in  his  censures  of  the  sins  then  prevalent 
among  the  Christian  jiriesthood.  His  writings  are  voluminous, 
and  by  some  he  has  been  considered  as  the  latest  of  the  fathers 
of  the  Church. 

2  "A  .superior  nature." 


OF  ATHEISM.  129 

man,  when  he  resteth  and  assureth  himself  upon 
divine  protection  and  favor,  gathereth  a  force  and 
faith,  which  human  nature  in  itself  could  not  obtain  ; 
therefore,  as  atheism  is  in  all  respects  hateful,  so  in 
this,  that  it  depriveth  human  nature  of  the  means 
to  exalt  itself  above  human  frailty.  As  it  is  in  par- 
ticular persons,  so  it  is  in  nations :  never  was  there 
such  a  state  for  magnanimity  as  Rome.  Of  this 
state  hear  what  Cicero  saith :  "  Quam  volumus,  licet, 
Patres  conscripti,  nos  amemus,  tamen  nee  numero 
Hispanos,  nee  robore  Gallos,  nee  calliditate  Pcenos, 
nee  artibus  Graecos,  nee  denique  hoc  ipso  hujus 
gentis  et  terras  domestic©  nativoque  sensu  Italos 
ipsos  et  Latinos ;  sed  pietate,  ac  religione,  atque 
h^c  un^  sapientia,  quod  Deorum  immortalium  nu- 
mine  omnia  regi,  gubernarique  perspeximus,  omnes 
geiites,  nationesque  superavimus."  ^ 

^  "  We  Diay  admire  ourselves,  conscript  fathers,  as  much  as 
we  please  ;  still,  neither  by  numbers  did  we  vanquish  the  Span- 
iards, nor  by  bodily  strength  the  Gauls,  nor  by  cunning  the  Car- 
thaginians, nor  through  the  arts  the  Greeks,  nor,  in  fine,  by  the 
inborn  and  native  good  sense  of  this  our  nation,  and  this  our 
race  and  soil,  the  Italians  and  Latins  themselves  ;  but  through 
our  devotion  and  our  religious  feeling,  and  this,  the  sole  true 
wisdom,  the  liaving  perceived  that  all  things  are  regulated  and 
governed  by  the  providence  of  the  immortal  Gods,  have  we  subdued 
all  races  and  nations."  —  Cic.  de.  Harus.  Respon.  9. 


130  ESSAYS. 


XVIL  — OF  SUPERSTITION. 

It  were  better  to  have  no  opinion  of  God  at  all, 
than  such  an  opinion  as  is  unworthy  of  him;  for 
the  one  is  unbelief,  the  other  is  contumely,^  and  cer- 
tainly superstition  is  the  reproach  of  the  Deity. 
Plutarch  saith  well  to  that  purpose  :  "  Surely,"  saith 
he,  "  I  had  rather  a  great  deal  men  should  say  there 
was  no  such  man  at  all  as  Plutarch,  than  that  they 
should  say  that  there  was  one  Plutarch  that  would 
eat  his  children^  as  soon  as  they  were  born,'  as 
the  poets  speak  of  Saturn ;  and,  as  the  contumely 
is  greater  towards  God,  so  the  danger  is  greater 
towards  men.  Atheism  leaves  a  man  to  sense,  to 
philosophy,  to  natural  piety,  to  laws,  to  reputation, 
all  which  may  be  guides  to  an  outward  moral  virtue, 
though  religion  were  not ;  but  superstition  dismounts 
ail  these,  and  erecteth  an  absolute  monarchy  in  the 
minds  of  men.  Therefore  atheism  did  never  perturb 
states ;  for  it  makes  men  wary  of  themselves,  as 
looking  no  further,  and  we  see  the  times  inclined 
to  atheism  (as  the  time  of  Augustus  Osesar)  were 
civil  times ;  but  superstition  hath  been  the  confusion 

*  The  justice  of  this  position  is,  perhaps,  somewhat  doubtful. 
The  superstitious  man  must  have  some  scruples,  while  he  who 
believes  not  iu  a  God  (if  there  i»  such  a  person),  iieeds  have  none. 

*  Time  was  personified  in  Saturn,  and  by  this  story  was  meant 
its  tendency  to  destroy  whatever  it  has  brought  into  exixt-ence.  — 
Pltd.  de  HuperstU.  x. 


OF  SUPERSTITION.  131 

of  many  states,  and  bringeth  in  a  new  primum  mo- 
bile,^ that  ravisheth  all  the  spheres  of  goverament. 
The  master  of  superstition  is  the  people,  and  in  all 
superstition  wise  men  follow  fools ;  and  arguments 
are  fitted  to  practice  in  a  reversed  order.  It  was 
gravely  said  by  some  of  the  prelates  in  the  Council 
of  Trent,'^  where  the  doctrine  of  the  schoolmen 
bare  great  sway,  that  the  schoolmen  were  like  as- 
tronomers, which  did  faign  eccentrics  ^  and  epicyles,* 
and  such  engines  of  orbs  to  save^  the  phenomena, 
though  they  knew  there  were  no  such  things;  and, 
in  like  manner,  that  the  schoolmen  had  framed  a 
number  of  subtle  and  intricate  axioms  and  theorems, 
to  save  the  practice  of  the  Church.  The  causes  of 
superstition  are,  pleasing  and  sensual  rites  and  cer- 
emonies ;  excess  of  outward  and  pharisaical  holiness ; 
over-great  reverence  of  traditions,  which  cannot  but 
load  the  Church ;  the  stratagems  of  prelates  for 
their  own  ambition  and  lucre  ;  the  favoring  too  much 
of  good  intentions,  which  openeth  the  gate  to  con- 
ceits and  novelties;  the  taking  an  aim  at  divine 
matters  by  human,  which  cannot  but  breed  mixture 

1  The  primary  motive  power. 

'  This  Council  commenced  in  1545,  and  lasted  eighteen  years. 
It  was  convened  for  the  purpose  of  opposing  the  rising  spirit  of 
Protestantism,  and  of  discussing  and  settling  the  disputed  points 
of  the  Catholic  faith. 

*  Irregular  or  anomalous  movements. 

*  An  epic3'cle  is  a  smaller  circle,  whose  centre  is  in  the  circum- 
ference of  a  greater  one. 

•>  To  account  for. 


132  ESSAYS. 

of  imaginations ;  and,  lastly,  barbarous  times,  espe- 
cially joined  with  calamities  and  disasters.  Supersti- 
tion, without  a  veil,  is  a  deformed  thing ;  for,  as  it 
addeth  deformity  to  an  ape  to  be  so  like  a  man, 
so  the  similitude  of  superstition  to  religion  makes 
it  the  more  deformed ;  and  as  wholesome  meat  cor- 
rupteth  to  little  worms,  so  good  forms  and  orders 
corrupt  into  a  number  of  petty  observances.  There 
is  a  superstition  in  avoiding  superstition,  when  men 
think  to  do  best  if  they  go  furthest  from  the  super- 
stition formerly  received;  therefore  care  would  be 
had  that  (as  it  fareth  in  ill  purgings)  the  good  be  not 
taken  away  with  the  bad,  which  commonly  is  done 
when  the  people  is  the  reformer. 


XVIII.  — OF  TRAVEL. 

Travel,  in  the  younger  sort,  is  a  part  of  educa- 
tion; in  the  elder,  a  part  of  experience.  He  that 
travelleth  into  a  country  before  he  hath  some  en- 
trance into  the  language,  goeth  to  school,  and  not  to 
travel.  That  young  men  travel  under  some  tutor 
or  grave  servant,  I  allow  well,  so  that  he  be  such  a 
one  that  hath  the  language,  and  hath  been  in  the 
country  before ;  whereby  he  may  be  able  to  tell 
them  what  things  are  worthy  to  be  seen  in  the 
country  where  they  go,  what  acquaintances  they 
are  to  seek,  what  exercises  or  discipline  the  place 


OF  TRAVEL.  133 

yieldeth;  for  else  young  men  shall  go  hooded,  and 
look  abroad  little.  It  is  a  strange  thing  that,  in 
sea  voyages,  where  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  but 
sky  and  sea,  men  should  make  diaries ;  but  in  land 
travel,  wherein  so  much  is  to  be  observed,  for  the 
most  part  they  omit  it,  as  if  chance  were  fitter  to 
be  registered  than  observation.  Let  diaries,  there- 
fore, be  brought  in  use.  The  things  to  be  seen  and 
observed  are,  the  courts  of  princes,  especially  when 
they  give  audience  to  ambassadors ;  the  courts  of 
justice,  while  they  sit  and  hear  causes;  and  so  of 
consistories^  ecclesiastic;  the  churches  and  monas- 
teries, with  the  monuments  which  are  therein  ex- 
tant ;  the  walls  and  fortifications  of  cities  and  towns ; 
and  so  the  havens  and  harbors,  antiquities  and  ruins, 
libraries,  colleges,  disputations,  and  lectures,  where 
any  are ;  shipping  and  navies ;  houses  and  gardens 
of  state  and  pleasure,  near  great  cities;  armories, 
arsenals,  magazines,  exchanges,  burses,  warehouses, 
exercises  of  horsemanship,  fencing,  training  of  sol- 
diers, and  the  like ;  comedies,  such  whereunto  the 
better  sort  of  persons  do  resort ;  treasuries  of  jewels 
and  robes;  cabinets  and  rarities;  and,  to  conclude, 
whatsoever  is  memorable  in  the  places  where  they 
go,  after  all  which  the  tutors  or  servants  ought  to 
make  diligent  inquiry.  As  for  triumphs,  masks, 
feasts,  weddings,  funerals,  capital  executions,  and 
such  shows,  men  need  not  to  be  put  in  mind  of 
them;  yet   they  are  not  to  be  neglected.     If  you 

1  Synods,  or  councils. 


134  ESSAYS. 

will  have  a  young  man  to  put  his  travel  into  a  little 
room,  and  in  short  time  to  gather  much,  this  you 
must  do :  first,  as  was  said,  he  must  have  some 
entrance  into  the  language  before  he  goeth;  then 
he  must  have  such  a  servant,  or  tutor,  as  knoweth 
the  country,  as  was  likewise  said;  let  him  carry 
with  him  also  some  card  or  book,  describing  the 
country  where  he  travelleth,  which  will  be  a  good 
key  to  his  inquiry ;  let  him  keep  also  a  diary ;  let 
him  not  stay  long  in  one  city  or  town,  more  or  less, 
as  the  place  deserveth,  but  not  long ;  nay,  when  he 
stayeth  in  one  city  or  town,  let  him  change  his  lodg- 
ing from  one  end  and  part  of  the  town  to  another, 
which  is  a  great  adamant  of  acquaintance ;  let  him 
sequester  himself  from  the  company  of  his  country- 
men, and  diet  in  such  places  where  there  is  good 
company  of  the  nation  where  he  travelleth ;  let  him, 
upon  his  removes  from  one  place  to  another,  pro- 
cure recommendation  to  some  person  of  quality 
residing  in  the  place  whither  he  removeth,  that  he 
may  use  his  favor  in  those  things  he  desireth  to  see 
or  know :  thus  he  may  abridge  his  travel  with  much 
profit.  As  for  the  acquaintance  which  is  to  be 
sought  in  travel,  that  which  is  most  of  all  profitable, 
is  acquaintance  with  the  secretaries  and  employed 
men^  of  ambassadors,  for  so  in  travelling  in  one 
country  he  shall  suck  the  experience  of  many ;  let 
him  also  see  and  visit  eminent  persons  in  all  kinds 
which  are  of  great  name  abroad,  that  he  may  be 

1  At  the  present  day  called  aUach6s, 


OF  EMPIRE.  135 

able  to  tell  how  the  life  agreeth  with  the  fame. 
For  quarrels,  they  are  with  care  and  discretion 
to  be  avoided;  they  are  commonly  for  mistresses, 
healths,'  place,  and  words;  and  let  a  man  beware 
how  he  keepeth  company  with  choleric  and  quarrel- 
some persons,  for  they  will  engage  him  into  their 
own  quarrels.  When  a  traveller  returneth  home, 
let  him  not  leave  the  countries  where  he  hath  trav- 
elled altogether  behind  him,  but  maintain  a  cor- 
respondence by  letters  with  those  of  his  acquaintance 
which  are  of  most  worth ;  and  let  his  travel  appear 
rather  in  his  discourse  than  in  his  apparel  or  gesture, 
and  in  his  discourse  let  him  be  rather  advised  in  his 
answers,  than  forward  to  tell  stories;  and  let  it 
appear  that  he  doth  not  change  his  country  manners 
for  those  of  foreign  parts,  but  only  prick  in  some 
flowers  of  that  he  hath  learned  abroad  into  the 
customs  of  his  own  country. 


XIX.  — OF  EMPIRE. 

It  is  a  miserable  state  of  mind  to  have  few  things 
to  desire,  and  many  things  to  fear ;  and  yet  that 
commonly  is  the  case  of  kings,  who,  being,  at  the 
highest,  want  matter  of  desire,^  which  makes  their 

^  He  probably  means  the  refusing  to  join  on  the  occasion  of 
drinking  healths  when  taking  wine. 
2  Something  to  create  excitement. 


136  ESSAYS. 

minds  more  languishing ;  and  have  many  repre- 
sentations of  perils  and  shadows,  which  makes  their 
minds  the  less  clear;  and  this  is  one  reason,  also, 
of  that  effect  which  the  Scripture  speaketh  of,  "  that 
the  king's  heart  is  inscrutable ; "  ^  for  multitude  of 
jealousies,  and  lack  of  some  predominant  desire, 
that  should  marshal  and  put  in  order  all  the  rest, 
maketh  any  man's  heart  hard  to  find  or  sound. 
Hence  it  comes,  likewise,  that  princes  many  times 
make  themselves  desires,  and  set  their  hearts  upon 
toys :  sometimes  upon  a  building ;  sometimes  upon 
erecting  of  an  order ;  sometimes  upon  the  advancing 
of  a  person ;  sometimes  upon  obtaining  excellency 
in  some  art  or  feat  of  the  hand,  —  as  Nero  for 
playing  on  the  harp ;  Domitian  for  certainty  of  the 
hand  with  the  arrow;  Commodus  for  playing  at 
fence ;  ^  Caracalla  for  driving  chariots,  and  the  like. 
This  seemeth  incredible  unto  those  that  know  not 
the  principle,  that  the  mind  of  man  is  more  cheered 
and  refreshed  by  profiting  in  small  things  than  by 
standing  at  a  stay^  in  great.  We  see,  also,  that 
kings  that  have  been  fortunate  conquerors  in  their 
first  years,  it  being  not  possible  for  them  to  go 
forward  infinitely,  but  that  they  must  have  some 
check  or  arrest  in  their  fortunes,  turn  in  their  latter 
years  to  be  superstitious   and  melancholy;   as  did 

*  "The  heart  of  kings  is  unsearchable."  —  Prov.  v,  3. 

2  Commodus  fought  naked  in  public  as  a  gladiator,  and  prided 
himself  on  his  skill  as  a  swordsman. 

•  Making  a  stop  at,  or  dwelling  too  long  upon. 


OF  E^IPIRE.  137 

Alexander  the  Great,  Diocletian,^  and,  in  our  mem- 
ory, Charles  the  rifth,^  and  others ;  for  he  that  is 
used  to  go  forward,  and  findeth  a  stop,  falleth  out 
of  his  own  favor,  and  is  not  the  thing  he  was. 

To  speak  now  of  the  true  temper  of  empire,  it  is 
a  thing  rare  and  hard  to  keep,  for  both  temper  and 
distemper  consist  of  contraries;  but  it  is  one  thing 
to  mingle  contraries,  another  to  interchange  them. 
Tiie  answer  of  Apollonius  to  Vespasian  is  full  of 
excellent  instruction.  Vespasian  asked  him,  "  What 
was  Nero's  overthrow  ?  "  He  answered,  "  Nero 
could  touch  and  tune  the  harp  well ;  but  in  govern- 
ment sometimes  he  used  to  wind  the  pins  too  high, 
sometimes  to  let  them  down  too  low."  ^  And  cer- 
tain it  is,  that  nothing  destroyeth  authority  so  much 
as  the  unequal  and  untimely  interchange  of  power 
pressed  too  far,  and  relaxed  too  much. 

This  is  true,  that  the  wisdom  of  all  these  latter 
times  in  princes'  affairs  is  rather  fine  deliveries,  and 
shiffcings  of  dangers  and  mischiefs,  when  they  are 
near,  than  solid  and  grounded  courses  to  keep  them 
aloof;  but  this  is  but  to  try  masteries  with  fortune, 
and  let  men  beware  how  they  neglect  and  suffer 
matter  of  trouble  to  be  prepared.  For  no  man  can 
forbid  the   spark,   nor   tell   whence   it  may  come. 

^  After  a  prosperous  reign  of  twenty-one  years,  Diocletian  abdi- 
cated the  throne,  and  retired  to  a  private  station. 

2  After  having  reigned  thirty-five  years,  he  abdicated  the  thrones 
of  Spain  and  German)',  and  passed  the  last  two  years  of  his  life  in 
retirement  at  St.  Just,  a  convent  in  Estremadura. 

8  Philost.  vit.  A  poll.  Tyan.  v.  28. 


138  ESSAYS. 

The  difficulties  in  princes'  business  are  many  and 
great;  but  the  greatest  difficulty  is  often  in  their 
own  mind.  For  it  is  common  with  princes  (saith 
Tacitus)  to  will  contradictories :  "  Sunt  plerumque 
regum  voluntates  vehementes,  et  inter  se  contrarise ; "  ^ 
for  it  is  tlie  solecism  of  power  to  think  to  command 
the  end,  and  yet  not  to  endure  the  mean. 

Kings  have  to  deal  with  their  neighbors,  their 
wives,  their  children,  their  prelates  or  clergy,  their 
nobles,  their  second  nobles  or  gentlemen,  their  mer- 
chants, their  commons,  and  their  men  of  war;  and 
from  all  these  arise  dangers,  if  care  and  circum- 
spection be  not  used. 

First,  for  their  neighbors,  there  can  no  general 
rule  be  given  (the  occasions  are  so  variable),  save 
one  which  ever  holdeth ;  which  is,  that  princes  do 
keep  due  sentinel,  that  none  of  their  neighbors  do 
overgrow  so  (by  increase  of  territory,  by  embracing 
of  trade,  by  approaches,  or  the  like),  as  they  be- 
come more  able  to  annoy  them  than  they  were  ;  and 
this  is  generally  the  work  of  standing  counsels  to 
foresee  and  to  hinder  it.  During  that  triumvirate 
of  kings.  King  Henry  the  Eighth  of  England,  Fran- 
cis the  First,  King  of  France,*  and  Charles  the 
Fifth,  Emperor,  there  was  such  a  watch  kept  that 

*  "The  desires  of  monarchs  are  generally  impetuous  and  conflict- 
ing among  themselves."  —  Quoted  rightly,  A.  L.  ii.  xxii.  5,  from 
Sallust  (B.  J.  113). 

*  He  was  especially  the  rival  of  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth, 
and  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  sovereigns  that  ever  ruled 
over  France. 


OF  EMPIRE.  139 

none  of  the  three  could  win  a  pahn  of  ground,  but 
the  other  two  would  straightwajs  balance  it,  either 
by  confederation,  or,  if  need  were,  by  a  war;  and 
would  not,  in  any  wise,  take  up  peace  at  interest; 
and  the  like  was  done  by  that  league  (which  Guic- 
ciardini^  saith  was  the  security  of  Italy)  made 
between  Ferdinando,  King  of  Naples,  Lorenzius 
Medicis,  and  Ludovicus  Sforza,  potentates,  the  one 
of  Florence,  the  other  of  Milan.  Neither  is  the 
opinion  of  some  of  the  schoolmen  to  be  received, 
that  a  war  cannot  justly  be  made,  but  upon  a  prece- 
dent injury  or  provocation ;  for  there  is  no  question, 
but  a  just  fear  of  an  imminent  danger,  though  there 
be  no  blow  given,  is  a  lawful  cause  of  a  war. 

For  their  wives,  there  are  cruel  examples  of  them. 
Livia  is  infaraed  ^  for  the  poisoning  of  her  husband ; 
Roxolana,  Solyman's  wife,^  was  the  destruction  of 

^  An  eminent  historian  of  Florence.  His  great  work,  which 
is  here  alluded  to,  is,  "  The  Histoiy  of  Italy  during  his  own 
Time,"  which  is  considered  one  of  the  most  valuable  productions 
of  that  age. 

2  Spoken  badly  of.  Livia  was  said  to  have  hastened  the  death 
of  Augustus,  to  prepare  the  accession  of  her  son  Tiberius  to  the 
throne, 

*  Solyman  the  Magnificent  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of 
the  Ottoman  monarchs.  He  took  the  Isle  of  Rhodes  from  the 
Knights  of  St.  John.  He  also  subdued  Moldavia,  "Wallachia, 
and  the  greatest  part  of  Hungary,  and  took  from  the  Persians 
Georgia  and  Bagdad.  He  died  A.  D.  1566.  His  wife  Roxolana 
(who  was  originally  a  slave  called  Rosa  or  Hazathya),  with  th« 
Pasha  Rustan,  conspired  against  the  life  of  his  son  Mustapha,  and 
by  their  instigation  this  distinguished  prince  was  strangled  in  his 
father's  presence. 


140  ESSAYS. 

that  renowned  prince,  Sultan  Mustapha,  and  other- 
wise troubled  his  house  and  succession ;  Edward  the 
Second  of  England's  Queen  ^  had  the  principal  hand 
in  the  deposing  and  murder  of  her  husband. 

This  kind  of  danger  is  then  to  be  feared  chiefly 
when  the  wives  have  plots  for  the  raising  of  their 
own  children,  or  else  that  they  be  advoutresses.^ 

For  their  children,  the  tragedies  likewise  of  dan- 
gers from  them  have  been  many ;  and  generally  the 
entering  of  fathers  into  suspicion  of  their  children 
hath  been  ever  unfortunate.  The  destruction  of 
Mustapha  (that  we  named  before)  was  so  fatal  to 
Solyman's  line,  as  the  succession  of  the  Turks  from 
Solyman  until  this  day  is  suspected  to  be  untrue, 
and  of  strange  blood ;  for  that  Selymus  the  Second 
was  thought  to  be  supposititious.^  The  destruction 
of  Crispus,  a  young  prince  of  rare  towardness,  by 
Constantinus  the  Great,  his  father,  was  in  like  man- 
ner fatal  to  his  house ;  for  both  Constantinus  and 
Constance,  his  sons,  died  violent  deaths ;  and  Con- 
stantius,  his  other  son,  did  little  better,  who  died 
indeed  of  sickness,  but  after  that  Julianus  had  taken 
arms  against  him.  The  destruction  of  Demetrius,* 
son  to  Philip  the  Second  of  Macedon,  turned  upon 

1  The  infamous  Isabella  of  Anjou. 
^  Adulteresses. 

*  He,  however,  distinguished  himself  by  taking  Cyprus  from 
the  Venetians  in  the  year  1571. 

*  He  was  falsely  accused  by  his  brother  Perseus  of  attempting  to 
dethrone  his  father,  on  which  he  was  put  to  death  by  the  order  of 
Philip,  B.  C.  180. 


OF  EMPIRE.  141 

the  father,  who  died  of  repentance.  And  many  like 
examples  there  are;  but  few  or  none  where  the 
fathers  had  good  by  such  distrust,  except  it  were 
where  the  sons  were  up  in  open  arms  against  them ; 
as  was  Selymus  the  First  against  Bajazet,  and  the 
three  sons  of  Henry  the  Second,  King  of  England. 

For  their  prelates,  when  they  are  proud  and  great, 
there  is  also  danger  from  them ;  as  it  was  in  the 
times  of  Anselmus  ^  and  Thomas  Becket,  Archbish- 
ops of  Canterbury,  who,  with  their  crosiers,  did 
almost  try  it  with  the  king's  sword ;  and  yet  they 
had  to  deal  with  stout  and  haughty  kings ;  William 
Rufus,  Henry  the  First,  and  Henry  the  Second. 
The  danger  is  not  from  that  state,  but  where  it  hath 
a  dependence  of  foreign  authority ;  or  where  the 
churchmen  come  in  and  are  elected,  not  by  the 
collation  of  the  King,  or  particular  patrons,  but  by 
the  people. 

For  their  nobles,  to  keep  them  at  a  distance  it  is 
not  amiss ;  but  to  depress  them  may  make  a  king 
more  absolute,  but  less  safe,  and  less  able  to  perform 
anything  that  he  desires.  I  have  noted  it  in  my 
History  of  King  Henry  the  Seventh  of  England, 
who  depressed  his  nobility,  whereupon  it  came  to 
pass   that   his    times  were   full   of  difficulties   and 

1  Anselm  was  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  in  the  time  of  William 
Rufus  and  Henry  the  First.  Though  his  private  life  was  pious 
and  exemplary,  through  his  rigid  assertion  of  the  rights  of  the 
clergy  he  was  continually  embroiled  with  his  sovereign.  Thomas 
k  Becket  pursued  a  similar  course,  but  with  still  greater  violence. 


142  ESSAYS. 

troubles;  for  the  nobility,  though  they  continued 
loyal  unto  him,  yet  did  they  not  cooperate  with 
him  in  his  business ;  so  that,  in  eflfect,  he  was  fain 
to  do  all  things  himself. 

For  their  second  nobles,  there  is  not  much  danger 
from  them,  being  a  body  dispersed.  They  miiy 
sometimes  discourse  high,  but  that  doth  little  hurt ; 
besides,  they  are  a  counterpoise  to  the  higher  nobil- 
ity, that  they  grow  not  too  potent ;  and,  lastly,  being 
the  most  immediate  in  authority  with  the  common 
people,  they  do  best  temper  popular  commotions. 

For  their  merchants,  they  are  "  vena  porta :  "  ^ 
and  if  they  flourish  not,  a  kingdom  may  have  good 
limbs,  but  will  have  empty  veins,  and  nourish  little. 
Taxes  and  imposts  upon  them  do  seldom  good  to 
the  king's  revenue,  for  that  which  he  wins  ^  in  the 
hundred  ^  he  losetli  in  the  shire  ;  the  particular  rates 
being  increased,  but  the  total  bulk  of  trading  rather 
decreased. 

For  their  commons,  there  is  little  danger  from 
them,  except  it  be  where  they  have  great  and  potent 
heads  ;  or  where  you  meddle  with  the  point  of  relig- 
ion, or  their  customs,  or  means  of  life. 

For  their   men  of  war,  it  is  a  dangerous  state 

1  The  gi'eat  vessel  that  conveys  the  blood  to  the  liver,  after  it 
has  been  enriched  by  the  abaorption  of  nutriment  from  the  intes- 
tines. 

*  This  is  an  expression  similar  to  our  proverb,  "Penny- wise 
and  pound-foolish." 

'  A  subdivision  of  the  shire. 


OF  COUNSEL.  143 

where  they  live  and  remain  in  a  body,  and  are  used 
to  donatives  ;  whereof  we  see  examples  in  the  Jani- 
zaries ^  and  Praetorian  bands  of  Rome  ;  but  train- 
ings of  men,  and  arming  them  in  several  places, 
and  under  several  commanders,  and  without  dona- 
tives, are  things  of  defence  and  no  danger. 

Princes  are  like  to  heavenly  bodies,  which  cause 
good  or  evil  times ;  and  which  have  much  venera- 
tion, but  no  rest.  All  precepts  concerning  kings 
are  in  effect  comprehended  in  those  two  remem- 
brances, "  Memento  quod  es  homo  ; "  ^  and  "  Me- 
mento quod  es  Deus,"  ^  or  "  vice  Dei ; "  *  the  one 
bridleth  their  power  and  the  other  their  will. 


XX.  — OF  COUNSEL. 

The  greatest  trust  between  man  and  man  is  the 
trust  of  giving  counsel ;  for  in  other  confidences 
men  commit  the  parts  of  life,  their  lands,  their  goods, 
their  children,  their  credit,  some  particular  affair; 
but  to  such  as  they  make  their  counsellors  they 
commit   the  whole  ;    by  how  much   the  more  they 

1  The  Janizaries  were  the  body-guards  of  the  Turkish  sultans, 
and  enacted  the  same  disgraceful  part  in  making  and  unmaking 
nionarchs,  as  the  mercenary  Praetorian  guards  of  the  Roman 
Empire. 

^  "  Remember  that  thou  art  a  man." 

'  "  Remember  that  thou  art  a  God." 

*  "  The  representative  of  God." 


144  ESSAYS. 

are  obliged  to  all  faith  and  integrity.  The  wisest 
princes  need  not  think  it  any  diminution  to  their 
greatness,  or  derogation  to  their  sufficiency  to  rely 
upon  counsel.  God  himself  is  not  without,  but  hath 
made  it  one  of  the  great  names  of  his  blessed  Son, 
"  The  Counsellor."  ^  Solomon  hath  pronounced  that, 
"  in  counsel  is  stability."  ^  Things  will  have  their 
first  or  second  agitation :  if  they  be  not  tossed  upon 
the  arguments  of  counsel,  they  will  be  tossed  upon 
the  waves  of  fortune,  and  be  fall  of  inconstancy, 
doing  and  undoing,  like  the  reeling  of  a  drunken 
man.  Solomon's  son^  found  the  force  of  counsel, 
as  his  father  saw  the  necessity  of  it ;  for  the  beloved 
kingdom  of  God  was  first  rent  and  broken  by  ill 
counsel ;  upon  which  counsel  there  are  set  for  our 
instruction  the  two  marks  whereby  bad  counsel  is 
forever  best  discerned,  that  it  was  young  counsel  for 
the  persons,  and  violent  counsel  for  the  matter. 

The  ancient  times  do  set  forth  in  figure  both  the 
incorporation  and  inseparable  conjunction  of  counsel 
with  kings,  and  the  wise  and  politic  use  of  counsel 
by  kings ;  the  one,  in  that  they  say  Jupiter  did 
marry  Metis,  which  signifieth  counsel ;  whereby  they 
intend  that  sovereignty  is  married  to  counsel ;  the 

1  Isaiah  ix.  6  :  "  His  name  shall  be  called,  Wonderful,  Coun- 
sellor, The  mighty  God,  The  everlasting  Father,  The  Prince  of 
Peace." 

2  Prov.  XX.  18:  "Every  purpose  is  established  by  counsel: 
and  with  good  advice  make  war." 

8  The  wicked  Rehoboam,  from  whom  the  ten  tribes  of  Israel 
revolted,  and  elected  Jeroboam  their  king.  —  See  1  Kings  xii. 


OF  COUNSEL.  145 

other  in  that  which  followeth,  which  was  thus  :  they 
say,  after  Jupiter  was  married  to  Metis,  she  con- 
ceived by  him  and  was  with  child;  but  Jupiter 
suffered  her  not  to  stay  till  she  brought  forth,  but 
eat  her  up ;  whereby  he  became  himself  with  child, 
and  was  delivered  of  Pallas  armed,  out  of  his  head.^ 
Which  monstrous  fable  containeth  a  secret  of  empire, 
how  kings  are  to  make  use  of  their  council  of  state ; 
that  first,  they  ought  to  refer  matters  unto  them, 
which  is  the  first  begetting  or  impregnation;  but 
when  they  are  elaborate,  moulded,  and  shaped  in 
the  womb  of  their  counsel,  and  grow  ripe  and  ready 
to  be  brought  forth,  that  then  they  suffer  not  their 
council  to  go  through  with  the  resolution  and  di- 
rection, as  if  it  depended  on  them  ;  but  take  the  mat- 
ter back  into  their  own  hands,  and  make  it  appear 
to  the  world,  that  the  decrees  and  final  directions 
(which,  because  they  come  forth  with  prudence  and 
power,  are  resembled  to  Pallas  armed),  proceeded 
from  themselves  ;  and  not  only  from  their  authority, 
but  (the  more  to  add  reputation  to  themselves) 
from  their  head  and  device. 

Let  us  now  speak  of  the  inconveniences  of  coun- 
sel, and  of  the  remedies.  The  inconveniences  that 
have  been  noted  in  calling  and  using  counsel  are 
three  :  first,  the  revealing  of  affairs,  whereby  they 
become  less  secret ;  secondly,  the  weakening  of  the 
authority  of  princes,  as  if  they  were  less  of  them- 
selves;   thirdly,   the    danger  of   being  unfaithfully 

1  Hesiod,  Theog,  886. 
10 


146  ESSAYS. 

counselled,  and  more  for  the  good  of  them  that 
counsel  than  of  him  that  is  counselled ;  for  which 
inconveniences,  the  doctrine  of  Italy,  and  practice  of 
France,  in  some  kings'  times,  hath  introduced  cabinet 
councils;  a  remedy  worse  than  the  disease.^ 

As  to  secrecy,  princes  are  not  bound  to  commu- 
nicate all  matters  with  all  counsellors,  but  may 
extract  and  select;  neither  is  it  necessary  that  he 
that  consulteth  what  he  should  do,  should  declare 
what  he  will  do;  but  let  princes  beware  that  the 
unsecreting  of  their  affairs  comes  not  from  them- 
selves ;  and,  as  for  cabinet  councils,  it  may  be  their 
motto,  "  Plenus  rimarum  sum  :  "  ^  one  futile  person, 
that  maketh  it  his  glory  to  tell,  will  do  more  hurt 
than  many  that  know  it  their  duty  to  conceal.  It 
is  true,  there  be  some  affairs  which  require  extreme 
secrecy,  which  will  hardly  go  beyond  one  or  two 
persons  besides  the  king.  Neither  are  those  coun- 
sels unprosperous ;  for,  besides  the  secrecy,  they 
commonly  go  on  constantly  in  one  spirit  of  direction 
without  distraction ;  but  then  it  must  be  a  prudent 
king,  such  as  is  able  to  grind  with  a  hand-mill ;  ^ 
and  those  inward  counsellors  had  need  also  to  be 
wise  men,  and  especially  true  and  trusty  to  the 
king's    ends;     as    it    was    with   King    Henry   the 

1  The  political  world  has  not  been  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
this  doctrine  of  Lord  Bacon  ;  as  cabinet  councils  are  now  held 
probably  by  every  sovereign  in  Europe. 

2  "  I  am  full  of  outlets."  —  Ter.  Eun.  I.  ii.  25. 

'  That  is,  without  a  complicated  machinery  of  government 


OF  COUNSEL.  147 

Seventh  of  England,  who,  in  his  greatest  business, 
imparted  himself  to  none,  except  it  were  to 
Morton^   and   Fox.^ 

For  weakening  of  authority,  the  fable  ^  showeth 
the  remedy ;  nay,  the  majesty  of  kings  is  rather 
exalted  than  diminished  when  they  are  in  the  chair 
of  council;  neither  was  there  ever  prince  bereaved 
of  his  dependencies  by  his  council,  except  where 
there  hath  been  either  an  over-greatness  in  one 
counsellor,  or  an  over-strict  combination  in  divers, 
which  are  things  soon  found  and  holpen.^ 

For  the  last  inconvenience,  that  men  will  counsel 
with  an  eye  to  themselves  ;  certainly,  "  non  inveniet 
fidem  super  terram,"  ^  is  meant  of  the  nature  of 
times,^  and  not  of  all  particular  persons.     There  be 

1  Master  of  the  Rolls  and  Privy  Councillor  under  Henry  VI., 
to  whose  cause  he  faithfully  adhered.  Edward  IV.  promoted 
him  to  the  See  of  Ely,  and  made  him  Lord  Chancellor.  He  was 
elevated  to  the  See  of  Canterbury  by  Henry  VII.,  and  in  1493 
received  the  Cardinal's  hat. 

^  Privy  Councillor  and  Keeper  of  the  Privy  Seal  to  Henry  VII,, 
and,  after  enjoying  several  bishoprics  in  succession,  translated 
to  the  See  of  Winchester.  He  was  an  able  statesman,  and  highly 
Talued  by  Henrj'  VII.  On  the  accession  of  Henry  VIII.  his 
political  influence  was  counteracted  by  Wolsey  ;  on  which  he 
retired  to  his  diocese,  and  devoted  the  rest  of  his  life  to  acts  of 
piety  and  munificence. 

8  Before  mentioned,  relative  to  Jupiter  and  Metis. 

*  Remedied. 

*  "He  shall  not  find  faith  upon  the  earth."  Lord  Bacon 
probably  alludes  to  the  words  of  our  Saviour,  St.  Luke  xviii.  8 : 
"  When  the  Son  of  man  cometh,  shall  he  find  faith  upon  the 
earth  ? " 

'  He  means  to  say,  that  this  remark  was  only  applicable  to  a 


148  ESSAYS. 

that  are  in  nature  faithful  and  sincere,  and  plain 
and  direct,  not  crafty  and  involved:  let  princes, 
above  all,  draw  to  themselves  such  natures.  Be- 
sides, counsellors  are  not  commonly  so  united,  but 
that  one  counsellor  keepeth  sentinel  over  another ; 
so  that  if  any  do  counsel  out  of  faction  or  private 
ends,  it  commonly  comes  to  the  king's  ear ;  but  the 
best  remedy  is,  if  princes  know  their  counsellors,  as 
well  as  their  counsellors  know  them :  — 

"  Principis  est  virtus  maxima  nosse  suos."  l 

And  on  the  other  side,  counsellors  should  not  be  too 
speculative  into  their  sovereign's  person.  The  true 
composition  of  a  counsellor  is,  rather  to  be  skilful 
in  their  master's  business  than  in  his  nature ;  ^  for 
then  he  is  like  to  advise  him,  and  not  to  feed  his 
humor.  It  is  of  singular  use  to  princes,  if  they 
take  the  opinions  of  their  councU  both  separately 
and  together ;  for  private  opinion  is  more  free,  but 
opinion  before  others  is  more  reverend.  In  private, 
men  are  more  bold  in  their  own  humors;  and  in 
consort,  men  are  more  obnoxious"  to  others'  hu- 
mors ;  therefore  it  is  good  to  take  both ;  and  of  the 
inferior  sort  rather  in  private,  to  preserve  freedom  ; 
of  the  greater,  rather  in  consort,  to  preserve  re- 
spect.    It  is  in  vain  for  princes  to  take  counsel 

particular  time,  namely,  the  coming  of  Christ.  The  period  of 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  was  probably  referred  to. 

1  "  'T  is  the  especial  virtue  of  a  prince  to  know  his  own  men." 

*  In  his  disposition,  or  inclination. 

•  tfiftbU  to  oppositioii  frooi. 


OF  COUNSEL.  149 

concerning  matters,  if  they  take  no  counsel  like- 
wise concerning  persons ;  for  all  matters  are  as  dead 
images;  and  the  life  of  the  execution  of  affairs 
resteth  in  the  good  choice  of  persons.  Neither 
is  it  enough  to  consult  concerning  persons,  "secun- 
dum genera,"  ^  as  in  an  idea  or  mathematical  de- 
scription, what  the  kind  and  character  of  the  person 
should  be;  for  the  greatest  errors  are  committed, 
and  the  most  judgment  is  shown,  in  the  choice  of 
individuals.  It  was  truly  said,  "Optimi  consiliarii 
mortui :  "  ^  "  books  ^tall  speak  plain  when  coun- 
sellors blanch  ;  "  ^  therefore  it  is  good  to  be  con- 
versant in  them,  specially  the  books  of  such  as 
themselves  have  been  actors  upon  the  stage. 

The  councils  at  this  day  in  most  places  are  but 
familiar  meetings,  where  matters  are  rather  talked 
on  than  debated ;  and  they  run  too  swift  to  the 
order  or  act  of  council.  It  were  better  that  in 
causes  of  weight,  the  matter  were  propounded  one 
day  and  not  spoken  to  till  the  next  day ;  "  In  nocte 
consilium;"*  so  was  it  done  in  the  commission  of 

1  "  According  to  classes,"  or,  as  we  vulgarly  say,  *'  in  the 
lump."  Lord  Bacon  means  that  princes  are  not,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  to  take  counsellors  merely  on  the  presumption  of  talent, 
from  their  rank  and  station  ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
to  select  such  as  are  tried  men,  and  with  regard  to  whom  there 
can  be  no  mistake. 

2  "The  best  counsellors  are  the  dead." 

*  "  Are  afraid  "  to  open  their  mouths. 

*  "Night-time  for  counsel."  —  iv  yvKri  iSovA.^.  Oaisf.  Par. 
Or.  B.  359. 


150  ESSAYS. 

union  ^  between  England  and  Scotland,  which  was 
a  grave  and  orderly  assembly.  I  commend  set 
days  for  petitions;  for  both  it  gives  the  suitors 
more  certainty  for  their  attendance,  and  it  frees 
the  meetings  for  matters  of  estate,  that  they  may 
"  hoc  agere."  ^  In  choice  of  committees  for  ripen- 
ing business  for  the  council,  it  is  better  to  choose 
indifferent  persons,  than  to  make  an  indifferency 
by  putting  in  those  that  are  strong  on  both  sides. 
I  commend,  also,  standing  commissions  ;  as  for  trade, 
for  treasure,  for  war,  for  suits,  for  some  provinces; 
for  where  there  be  divers  particular  councils,  and 
but  one  council  of  estate  (as  it  is  in  Spain),  they 
are  in  effect  no  more  than  standing  commissions, 
save  that  they  have  greater  authority.  Let  such 
as  are  to  inform  councils  out  of  their  particular 
professions  (as  lawyers,  seamen,  mintmen,  and  the 
like)  be  first  heard  before  committees ;  and  then, 
as  occasion  serves,  before  the  council ;  and  let  them 
not  come  in  multitudes,  or  in  a  tribunitious  ^  man- 
ner ;  for  that  is  to  clamor  councils,  not  to  inform 
them.  A  long  table  and  a  square  table,  or  seats 
about  the  walls,  seem  things  of  form,  but  are  things 
of  substance  ;  for  at  a  long  table  a  few  at  the  upper 
end,  in   effect,   sway  all  the  business;  but  in  the 

1  On   the   accession   of  James   the   Sixth   of  Scotland  to  the 
throne  of  England  in  1603. 

2  A  phrase   much   in   use  with    the   Romans,   signifying,    "to 
attend  to  the  business  in  hand." 

^  A  tribunitial  or  declamator}'  manner. 


OP  DELAYS.  151 

other  form  there  is  more  use  of  the  counsellors' 
opinions  that  sit  lower.  A  king,  when  he  presides 
in  council,  let  him  beware  how  he  opens  his  own 
inclination  too  much  in  that  which  he  propoundeth ; 
for  else  counsellors  will  but  take  the  wind  of  him, 
and,  instead  of  giving  free  counsel,  will  sing  him  a 
song  of  "placebo."^ 


XXL  — OF  DELAYS. 

Fortune  is  like  the  market,  where,  many  times, 
if  you  can  stay  a  little,  the  price  will  fall ;  and  again, 
it  is  sometimes  like  Sibylla's  ofFer,^  which  at  first 

1  '*  I  '11  follow  the  bent  of  your  humor." 

*  The  Sibyl  alluded  to  here  is  the  CurajEau,  the  most  cele- 
brated, who  oflFered  the  Sibylline  Books  for  sale  to  Tarquin  the 
Proud. 

"At  this  time,  an  unknown  woman  appeared  at  court,  loaded 
with  nine  voliunes,  which  she  offered  to  sell,  but  at  a  very  con- 
siderable price.  Tarquin  refusing  to  give  it,  she  withdrew  and 
burnt  three  of  the  nine.  Some  time  after  she  returned  to  court, 
and  demanded  the  same  price  for  the  remaining  six.  This  made 
her  looked  iipon  as  a  mad  woman,  and  she  was  driven  away  with 
sconi.  Nevertheless,  having  burnt  the  half  of  what  were  left,  she 
came  a  third  time,  and  demanded  for  the  remaining  three  the 
same  price  which  she  had  asked  for  the  whole  nine.  The  novelty 
of  such  a  proceeding,  made  Tarquin  curious  to  have  the  books 
examined.  They  were  put,  therefore,  into  the  hands  of  the  augurs, 
who,  finding  them  to  be  the  oracles  of  the  Sybil  of  Cumse,  declared 
them  to  be  an  invaluable  treasure.  Upon  this  the  woman  was  paid 
the  sum  she  demanded,  and  she  soon  after  disappeared,  having  first 
exhorted  the  Romans  to  preserve  her  books  with  care. "  —  Hooke's 
Roman  History. 


152  ESSAYS. 

ofFereth  the  commodity  at  full,  then  consumeth  part 
and  part,  and  still  holdeth  up  the  price ;  for  occasion 
(as  it  is  in  the  common  verse)  "tumeth  a  bald 
noddle,^  after  she  hath  presented  her  locks  in  front, 
and  no  hold  taken ;  "  or,  at  least,  turneth  the  handle 
of  the  bottle  first  to  be  received,  and  after  the  belly, 
which  is  hard  to  clasp.^  There  is  surely  no  greater 
wisdom  than  well  to  time  the  beginnings  and  onsets 
of  things.  Dangers  are  no  more  light,  if  they  once 
seem  light;  and  more  dangers  have  deceived  men 
than  forced  them ;  nay,  it  were  better  to  meet  some 
dangers  half-way,  though  they  come  nothing  near, 
than  to  keep  too  long  a  watch  upon  their  ap- 
proaches ;  for  if  a  man  watch  too  long,  it  is  odds 
he  will  fall  asleep.  On  the  other  side,  to  be  de- 
ceived with  too  long  shadows  (as  some  have  been 
when  the  moon  was  low,  and  shone  on  their  enemies* 
back),  and  so  to  shoot  off  before  the  time ;  or  to 
teach  dangers  to  come  on  by  over  early  buckling 
towards  them,  is  another  extreme.  The  ripeness  or 
unripeness  of  the  occasion  (as  we  said)  must  ever  be 
well  weighed ;  and  generally  it  is  good  to  commit  the 
beginnings  of  all  great  actions  to  Argus  with  his  hun- 
dred eyes,  and  the  ends  to  Briareus  with  his  hundred 
hands,  first  to  watch  and  then  to  speed;  for  the 
helmet  of  Pluto,^  which  maketh  the  politic  man  go 
invisible,  is  secrecy  in  the  council,  and  celerity  in 

1  Bald  head.     He  alludes  to  the  common  saying:  "Take  time 
by  the  forelock." 

2  Phsed.  viii.  «  Horn.  IL  v.  845. 


OF  CUNNING.  153 

the  execution ;  for  wlien  things  are  once  come  to 
the  execution,  there  is  no  secrecy  comparable  to 
celerity ;  like  the  motion  of  a  bullet  in  the  air, 
which  flieth  so  swift  as  it  outruns  the  eye. 


XXIL  — OF  CUNNING. 

We  take  cimning  for  a  sinister,  or  crooked  wis- 
dom ;  and,  certainly,  there  is  great  difference  between 
a  cunning  man  and  a  wise  man,  not  only  in  point  of 
honesty,  but  in  point  of  ability.  There  be  that  can 
pack  the  cards,^  and  yet  cannot  play  well ;  so  there 
are  some  that  are  good  in  canvasses  and  factions, 
that  are  otherwise  weak  men.  Again,  it  is  one 
thing  to  understand  persons,  and  another  thing  to 
understand  matters ;  for  many  are  perfect  in  men's 
humors  that  are  not  greatly  capable  of  the  real  part 
of  business,  which  is  the  constitution  of  one  that 
hath  studied  men  more  than  books.  Such  men  are 
fitter  for  practice  than  for  counsel,  and  they  are 
good  but  in  their  own  alley.  Turn  them  to  new 
men,  and  they  have  lost  their  aim ;  so  as  the  old 
rule,  to  know  a  fool  from  a  wise  man,  "  Mitte  am- 
bos  nudos  ad  ignotos,  et  videbis,"  ^  doth  scarce  hold 

1  Packing  the  cards  is  an  admirable  illustration  of  the  author's 
meaning.  It  is  a  cheating  exploit,  by  which  knaves,  who,  per- 
haps, are  inferior  players,  insure  to  themselves  the  certainty  of 
good  hands. 

*  "Send  them  both  naked  among  strangers,  and  then  you  will 


154  ESSAYS. 

for  them ;  and,  because  these  cunning  men  are  like 
haberdashers  ^  of  small  wares,  it  is  not  amiss  to  set 
forth  their  shop. 

It  is  a  point  of  cunning  to  wait  upon  ^  him  with 
whom  you  speak  with  your  eye,  as  the  Jesuits  give 
it  in  precept ;  for  there  be  many  wise  men  that  have 
secret  hearts  and  transparent  countenances ;  yet  this 
would  be  done  with  a  demure  abasing  of  your  eye 
sometimes,  as  the  Jesuits  also  do  use. 

Another  is,  that  when  you  have  any  thing  to  obtain 
of  present  dispatch,  you  entertain  and  amuse  the 
party  with  whom  you  deal  with  some  other  discourse, 
that  he  be  not  too  much  awake  to  make  objections. 
I  knew  a  counsellor  and  secretary  that  never  came 
to  Queen  Elizabeth  of  England,  with  bills  to  sign, 
but  he  would  always  first  put  her  into  some  discourse 
of  estate,^  that  she  might  the  less  mind  the  bills. 

The  like  surprise  may  be  made  by  moving  things  * 
when  the  party  is  in  haste,  and  cannot  stay  to  con- 
sider advisedly  of  that  is  moved. 

If  a  man  would  cross  a  business  that  he  doubts 
some  other  would  handsomely  and  eflfectually  move, 
let  him  pretend  to  wish  it  well,  and  move  it  himself, 
in  such  sort  as  may  foil  it. 

1  This  word  is  used  here  in  its  primitive  sense  of  "  retaU  deal- 
ers." It  is  said  to  have  been  derived  from  a  custom  of  the  Flem- 
ings, who  first  settled  in  this  countiy  in  the  fourteenth  century, 
stopping  the  passengers  as  they  passed  their  shops,  and  saying  to 
them,  "  Haber  das,  herr?" — "Will  you  take  this,  sir?"  The 
word  is  now  generally  used  as  synonymous  with  linen-draper. 

2  To  watch. 

*  State.  *  Discussing  matters. 


OF  CUNNING.  165 

The  breaking  off  in  the  midst  of  that  one  was 
about  to  say,  as  if  he  took  himself  up,  breeds  a 
greater  appetite  in  him  with  whom  you  confer  to 
know  more. 

And  because  it  works  better  when  any  thing 
seemeth  to  be  gotten  from  you  by  question  than  if 
you  offer  it  of  yourself,  you  may  lay  a  bait  for  a 
question,  by  showing  another  visage  and  counte- 
nance than  you  are  wont ;  to  the  end,  to  give  occa- 
sion for  the  party  to  ask  what  the  matter  is  of  the 
change,  as  Nehemiah  ^  did :  "  And  I  had  not,  before 
that  time,  been  sad  before  the  king." 

In  things  that  are  tender  and  unpleasing,  it  is 
good  to  break  the  ice  by  some  whose  words  are  of 
less  weight,  and  to  reserve  the  more  weighty  voice 
to  come  in  as  by  chance,  so  that  he  may  be  asked 
the  question  upon  the  other's  speech;  as  Narcissus 
did,  in  relating  to  Claudius  the  marriage^  of  Messa- 
lina  and  Silius. 

In  things  that  a  man  would  not  be  seen  in  himself, 
it  is  a  point  of  cunning  to  borrow  the  name  of  the 

1  He  refers  to  the  occasion  when  Nehemiah,  on  presenting  the 
wine,  as  cnp-bearer  to  King  Artaxerxes,  appeared  sorrowful,  and, 
on  being  asked  the  reason  of  it,  entreated  the  king  to  allow  Jeru- 
salem to  be  rebuilt,  — Nefiemiah  ii.  1. 

2  This  can  hardly  be  called  a  marriage,  as,  at  the  time  of  the 
intrigue,  Messalina  was  the  wife  of  Claudius  ;  but  she  forced  Caius 
Silius,  of  whom  she  was  deeply  enamored,  to  divorce  his  own  wife, 
that  she  herself  might  enjoy  his  society.  The  intrigue  was  dis- 
closed to  Claudius  by  Narcissus,  who  was  his  freedman,  and  the 
pander  to  his  infamous  vices  ;  on  which  Silius  was  put  to  death. 
Vide  Tac.  Ann.  xi.  29,  seq. 


156  ESSAYS. 

world ;  as  to  say,  "  The  world  says,"  or  "  There  is  a 
speech  abroad." 

I  knew  one,  that  when  he  wrote  a  letter,  he  would 
put  that  which  was  most  material  in  a  postscript,  as 
if  it  had  been  a  by-matter. 

I  knew  another,  that  when  he  came  to  have 
speech,^  he  would  pass  over  that  that  he  intended 
most ;  and  go  forth  and  come  back  again,  and  speak 
of  it  as  a  thing  that  he  had  almost  forgot. 

Some  procure  themselves  to  be  surprised  at  such 
times  as  it  is  like  the  party  that  they  work  upon  will 
suddenly  come  upon  them,  and  to  be  found  with  a 
letter  in  their  hand,  or  doing  somewhat  which  they 
are  not  accustomed,  to  the  end  they  may  be  apposed 
of  ^  those  things  which  of  themselves  they  are  de- 
sirous to  utter. 

It  is  a  point  of  cunning  to  let  fall  those  words 
in  a  man's  own  name,  which  he  would  have  another 
man  learn  and  use,  and  thereupon  take  advantage. 
I  knew  two  that  were  competitors  for  the  secretary  s 
place  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  and  yet  kept  good 
quarter  ^  between  themselves,  and  would  confer  one 
with  another  upon  the  business ;  and  the  one  of 
them  said,  that  to  be  a  secretary  in  the  declination 
of  a  monarchy  was  a  ticklish  thing,  and  that  he  did 
not  affect  it ;  ^  the  other  straight  caught  up  those 
words,  and  discoursed  with  divers  of  his  friends,  that 
he  had  no  reason  to  desire  to  be  secretary  in  the 

^  To  speak  in  his  turn.  *  Be  questioned  upon. 

8  Kept  on  good  terms.  *  Dosire  it. 


OF  CUNNING.  157 

declination  of  a  monarchy.  The  first  man  took  hold 
of  it,  and  found  means  it  was  told  the  queen,  who, 
hearing  of  a  declination  of  a  monarchy,  took  it  so  ill, 
as  she  would  never  after  hear  of  the  other's  suit. 

There  is  a  cunning,  which  we  in  England  call 
"  the  turning  of  the  cat  in  the  pan ; "  which  is, 
when  that  wliich  a  man  says  to  another,  he  lays  it 
as  if  another  had  said  it  to  him  ;  and,  to  say  truth, 
it  is  not  easy,  when  such  a  matter  passed  between 
two,  to  make  it  appear  from  which  of  them  it  first 
moved  and  began. 

It  is  a  way  that  some  men  have,  to  glance  and 
dart  at  others  by  justifying  themselves  by  nega- 
tives ;  as  to  say,  "  This  I  do  not ; "  as  Tigellinus 
did  towards  Burrhus :  "  Se  non  diversas  spes,  sed 
incolumitatem  imperatoris  simpliciter  spectare."  ^ 

Some  have  in  readiness  so  many  talcd  and  stories, 
as  there  is  nothing  they  would  insinuate,  but  they 
can  wrap  it  into  a  tale ;  ^  which  serveth  both  to 
keep  themselves  more  in  guard,  and  to  make  others 
carry  it  with  more  pleasure. 

It  is  a  good  point  of  cunning  for  a  man  to  shape 
the  answer  he  would  have  in  his  own  words  and 
propositions;  for  it  makes  the  other  party  stick  the 
less. 

^  "That  he  did  not  have  various  hopes  in  view,  but  solely  the 
safety  of  the  emperor."  Tigellinus  was  the  profligate  minister 
of  Nero,  and  Africanus  Burrhus  was  the  chief  of  the  Prsetorian 
Guards.  —  Tac.  Ann.  xiv.  57. 

2  As  Nathan  did,  when  he  reproved  David  for  his  criminality 
with  Bathsheba.  —  2  Sarmiel  xii. 


158  ESSAYS. 

It  is  strange  how  long  some  men  will  lie  in  wait 
to  speak  somewhat  they  desire  to  say ;  and  how  far 
about  they  will  fetch,^  and  how  many  other  matters 
they  will  beat  over  to  come  near  it.  It  is  a  thing 
of  great  patience,  but  yet  of  much  use. 

A  sudden,  bold,  and  unexpected  question  doth 
many  times  surprise  a  man,  and  lay  him  open.  Like 
to  him,  that,  having  changed  his  name,  and  walking 
in  Paul's,^  another  suddenly  came  behind  him  and 
called  him  by  his  true  name,  whereat  straightways 
he  looked  back. 

But  these  small  wares  and  petty  points  of  cun- 
ning are  infinite,  and  it  were  a  good  deed  to  make 
a  list  of  them ;  for  that  nothing  doth  more  hurt  in  a 
state  than  that  cunning  men  pass  for  wise. 

But  certainly,  some  there  are  that  know  the  re- 
sorts^ and  falls*  of  business  that  cannot  sink  into 
the  main  of  it ;  ^  like  a  house  that  hath  convenient 
stairs  and  entries,  but  never  a  fair  room.  There- 
fore you  shall  see  them  find  out  pretty  looses^  in 
the  conclusion,  but  are  noways  able  to  examine  or 
debate  matters ;  and  yet  commonly  they  take  ad- 
vantage of  their  inability,  and  would  be  thought 
wits  of  direction.      Some   build   rather   upon   the 

*  Use  indirect  stratagems. 

*  He  alludes  to  the  old  Cathedral  of  St.  Paul,  in  London,  which, 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  was  a  common  lounge  for  idlers. 

*  Movements,  or  springs. 

*  Chances,  or  vicissitudes. 
'  Enter  deeply  into. 

"  Faults,  or  weak  points. 


OF  WISDOM  FOR  A  MAN'S  SELF.         159 

abusing  of  others,  and  (as  we  now  say)  putting 
tricks  upon  them,  than  upon  soundness  of  their  own 
proceedings ;  but  Solomon  saith :  "  Prudens  advertit 
ad  gressus  suos;  stultus  divertit  ad  dolos."^ 


XXIII.— OF  WISDOM  FOR  A  MAN'S  SELF. 

An  ant  is  a  wise  creature  for  itself,  but  it  is  a 
shrewd''^  thing  in  an  orchard  or  garden;  and  cer- 
tainly, men  that  are  great  lovers  of  themselves  waste 
the  public.  Divide  with  reason  between  self-love 
and  society;  and  be  so  true  to  thyself  as  thou  be 
not  false  to  others,  specially  to  thy  king  and  coun- 
try. It  is  a  poor  centre  of  a  man's  actions,  himself. 
It  is  right  earth ;  for  that  only  stands  fast  upon  his 
own  centre;*  whereas  all  things  that  have  affinity 
with  the  heavens,  move  upon  the  centre  of  another, 
which  they  benefit.  The  referring  of  all  to  a  man's 
self  is  more  tolerable  in  a  sovereign  prince,  because 
themselves  are  not  only  themselves,  but  their  good 
and  evil  is  at  the  peril  of  the  public  fortune ;  but 
it  is  a  desperate  evil  in  a  servant  to  a  prince,  or 

1  "  The  wise  man  gives  heed  to  his  own  footsteps  ;  the  fool  tum- 
eth  aside  to  the  snare. "  No  doubt  he  here  alludes  to  Ecclesiastes 
xiv.  2,  which  passage  is  thus  rendered  in  our  version  :  "  The  wise 
man's  eyes  are  in  his  head  ;  but  the  fool  walketh  in  darkness." 

2  Mischievous. 

3  It  must  be  remembered  that  Bacon  was  not  a  favorer  of  the 
Copemican  system. 


160  ESSAYS. 

a  citizen  in  a  republic;  for  whatsoever  affairs  pass 
such  a  man's  hands,  he  crooketh  them  to  his  own 
ends,  which  must  needs  be  often  eccentric  to  the 
ends  of  his  master  or  state.  Therefore,  let  princes 
or  states  choose  such  servants  as  have  not  this  mark ; 
except  they  mean  their  service  should  be  made  but 
the  accessary.  That  which  maketh  the  effect  more 
pernicious  is,  that  all  proportion  is  lost.  It  were 
disproportion  enough  for  the  servant's  good  to  be 
preferred  before  the  master's;  but  yet  it  is  a  greater 
extreme,  when  a  little  good  of  the  servant  shall  carry 
things  against  a  great  good  of  the  master.  And 
yet  that  is  the  case  of  bad  officers,  treasurers,  am- 
bassadors, generals,  and  other  false  and  corrupt 
servants ;  which  set  a  bias  upon  their  bowl,  of  their 
own  petty  ends  and  envies,  to  the  overthrow  of 
their  master's  great  and  important  affairs;  and,  for 
the  most  part,  the  good  such  servants  receive  is 
after  the  model  of  their  own  fortune ;  but  the  hurt 
they  sell  for  that  good  is  after  the  model  of  their 
master's  fortune.  And  certainly,  it  is  the  nature  of 
extreme  self-lovers,  as  they  will  set  a  house  on  fire, 
an  it  were  but  to  roast  their  eggs;  and  yet  these 
men  many  times  hold  credit  with  their  masters, 
because  their  study  is  but  to  please  them,  and  profit 
themselves  ;  and  for  either  respect  they  will  abandon 
the  good  of  their  affairs. 

Wisdom  for  a  man's  self  is,  in  many  branches 
thereof,  a  depraved  thing.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  rats, 
that  will  be  sure  to  leave  a  house  somewhat  before 


OF  INNOVATIONS.  161 

it  fall ;  it  is  the  wisdom  of  the  fox,  that  thrasts  out 
the  badger  who  digged  and  made  room  for  him ;  it 
is  the  wisdom  of  crocodiles,  that  shed  tears  when 
they  would  devour.  But  that  which  is  specially  to 
be  noted  is,  that  those  which  (as  Cicero  says  of 
Pompey)  are  "sui  amantes,  sine  rivali,"^  are  many 
times  unfortunate ;  and  whereas  they  have  all  their 
times  sacrificed  to  themselves,  they  become  in  the 
end  themselves  sacrifices  to  the  inconstancy  of  for- 
tune, whose  wings  they  thought  by  their  self-wisdom 
to  have  pinioned. 


XXIV.  — OF  INNOVATIONS. 

As  the  births  of  living  creatures  at  first  are  ill- 
shapen,  so  are  all  innovations,  which  are  the  births 
of  time;  yet,  notwithstanding,  as  those  that  first 
bring  honor  into  their  family  are  commonly  more 
worthy  than  most  that  succeed,  so  the  first  prece- 
dent (if  it  be  good)  is  seldom  attained  by  imitation ; 
for  ill  to  man's  nature  as  it  stands  perverted,  hath 
a  natural  motion  strongest  in  continuance,  but  good, 
as  a  forced  motion,  strongest  at  first.  Surely,  every 
medicine  2  is  an  innovation,  and  he  that  will  not 
apply  new  remedies  must  expect  new  evils,  for  time 
is  the  greatest  innovator;  and  if  time,  of  course, 

^  "Lovers  of  themselves  without  a  rival."  —  Ad.  Qu.  Fr.  iii.  8. 
*  Kemedy. 


162  ESSAYS. 

alter  things  to  the  worse,  and  wisdom  and  counsel 
shall  not  alter  them  to  the  better,  what  shall  be 
the  end  ?  It  is  true,  that  what  is  settled  by  custom, 
though  it  be  not  good,  yet,  at  least,  it  is  fit;  and 
those  things  which  have  long  gone  together,  are, 
as  it  were,  confederate  within  themselves ;  ^  whereas 
new  things  piece  not  so  well ;  but,  though  they  help 
by  their  utility,  yet  they  trouble  by  their  inconfor- 
mity ;  besides,  they  are  like  strangers,  more  admired 
and  less  favored.  All  this  is  true,  if  time  stood  still, 
which,  contrariwise,  moveth  so  round,  that  a  froward 
retention  of  custom  is  as  turbulent  a  thing  as  an 
innovation;  and  they  that  reverence  too  much  old 
times  are  but  a  scorn  to  the  new.  It  were  good, 
therefore,  that  men  in  their  innovations  would  follow 
the  example  of  time  itself,  which  indeed  innovateth 
greatly,  but  quietly,  and  by  degrees  scarce  to  be 
perceived ;  for,  otherwise,  whatsoever  is  new  is  un- 
looked  for,  and  ever  it  mends  some  and  pairs  ^  other ; 
and  he  that  is  holpen,  takes  it  for  a  fortune,  and 
thanks  the  time ;  and  he  that  is  hurt,  for  a  wrong, 
and  imputeth  it  to  the  author.  It  is  good,  also,  not 
to  try  experiments  in  states,  except  the  necessity 
be  urgent,  or  the  utility  evident ;  and  well  to  beware 
that  it  be  the  reformation  that  draweth  on  the 
change,  and  not  the  desire  of  change  that  pretendeth 
the  reformation  ;  and  lastly,  that  the  novelty,  though 
it  be  not  rejected,  yet  be  held  for  a  suspect,^  and,  as 

1  Adapted  to  each  other.  *  Injures  or  impairs. 

•  A  thing  suspected. 


OF  DISPATCH.  163 

the  Scripture  saith,  "That  we  make  a  stand  upon 
the  ancient  way,  and  then  look  about  us,  and  dis- 
cover what  is  the  straight  and  right  way,  and  so 
to  walk  in  it.^ 


XXV.  — OF  DISPATCH. 

Affected  dispatch  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
things  to  business  that  can  be ;  it  is  like  that  which 
the  physicians  call  predigestion,  or  hasty  digestion, 
which  is  sure  to  fill  the  body  full  of  crudities,  and 
secret  seeds  of  diseases.  Therefore,  measure  not 
dispatch  by  the  times  of  sitting,  but  by  the  advance- 
ment of  the  business ;  and  as  in  races,  it  is  not  the 
large  stride,  or  high  lift,  that  makes  the  speed,  so 
in  business,  the  keeping  close  to  the  matter,  and  not 
taking  of  it  too  much  at  once,  procureth  dispatch. 
It  is  the  care  of  some,  only  to  come  off  speedily  for 
the  time,  or  to  contrive  some  false  periods  of  busi- 
ness, because  they  may  seem  men  of  dispatch  ;  but 
it  is  one  thing  to  abbreviate  by  contracting,^  another 
by  cutting  off;  and  business  so  handled  at  several 
sittings,  or  meetings,  goeth  commonly  backward  and 
forward  in  an  unsteady   manner.      I   knew  a  wise 

^  He  probably  alludes  to  Jeremiah  vi.  16:  "Thus  saith  the 
Lord,  Stand  ye  in  the  ways,  and  see,  and  ask  for  the  old  paths, 
where  is  the  good  way,  and  walk  therein,  and  ye  shall  find  rest 
for  your  souls." 

*  That  is,  by  means  of  good  management. 


164  ESSAYS. 

man  ^  that  had  it  for  a  byword,  when  he  saw  men 
hasten  to  a  conclusion,  "  Stay  a  little,  that  we  may 
make  an  end  the  sooner." 

On  the  other  side,  true  dispatch  is  a  rich  thing ; 
for  time  is  the  measure  of  business,  as  money  is  of 
wares  ;  and  business  is  bought  at  a  dear  hand  where 
there  is  small  dispatch.  The  Spartans  and  Span- 
iards have  been  noted  to  be  of  small  dispatch  :  "  Mi 
venga  la  muerte  de  Spagna ; "  "  Let  my  death  come 
from  Spain ; "  for  then  it  will  be  sure  to  be  long 
in  coming. 

Give  good  hearing  to  those  that  give  the  first 
information  in  business,  and  rather  direct  them  in 
the  beginning,  than  interrupt  them  in  the  continu- 
ance of  their  speeches ;  for  he  that  is  put  out  of 
his  own  order  will  go  forward  and  backward,  and 
be  more  tedious  while  he  waits  upon  his  memory, 
than  he  could  have  been  if  he  had  gone  on  in 
his  own  course ;  but  sometimes  it  is  seen  that  the 
moderator  is  more  troublesome  than  the  actor. 

Iterations  are  commonly  loss  of  time  ;  but  there 
is  no  such  gain  of  time  as  to  iterate  often  the  state 
of  the  question  ;  for  it  chaseth  away  many  a  frivo- 
lous speech  as  it  is  coming  forth.  Long  and  cu- 
rious speeches  are  as  fit  for  dispatch  as  a  robe,  or 
mantle,  with  a  long  train,  is  for  a  race.  Prefaces, 
and  passages,'^  and  excusations,"  and  other  speeches 

1  It  is  supposed  that  he  here  alludes  to  Sir  Amyas  Paulet,  a  very 
able  statesman,  and  the  ambassador  of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  the 
court  of  France. 

'  Quotations.  •  Apologies. 


OF  DISPATCH.  165 

of  reference  to  the  person,  are  great  wastes  of  time ; 
and  though  they  seem  to  proceed  of  modesty,  they 
are  bravery.^  Yet  beware  of  being  too  material 
when  there  is  any  impediment,  or  obstruction  in 
men's  wills;  for  preoccupation  of  mind^  ever  re- 
quireth  preface  of  speech,  like  a  fomentation  to  make 
the  unguent  enter. 

Above  all  things,  order  and  distribution,  and  sin- 
gling out  of  parts,  is  the  life  of  dispatch,  so  as  the 
distribution  be  not  too  subtile ;  for  he  that  doth  not 
divide  will  never  enter  well  into  business ;  and  he 
that  divideth  too  much  will  never  come  out  of  it 
clearly.  To  choose  time  is  to  save  time;  and  an 
unseasonable  motion  is  but  beating  the  air.  There 
be  three  parts  of  business,  —  the  preparation  ;  the 
debate,  or  examination  ;  and  the  perfection.  Where- 
of, if  you  look  for  dispatch,  let  the  middle  only  be 
the  work  of  many,  and  the  first  and  last  the  work 
of  few.  The  proceeding,  upon  somewhat  conceived 
in  writing,  doth  for  the  most  part  facilitate  dispatch  ; 
for  though  it  should  be  wholly  rejected,  yet  that 
negative  is  more  pregnant  of  direction  than  an  in- 
definite, as  ashes  are  more  generative  than  dust. 

1  Boasting  *  Prejudice. 


166  ESSAYS. 


XXVI.  — OF  SEEMING  WISE. 

It  hath  been  an  opinion,  that  the  French  are 
wiser  than  they  seem,  and  the  Spaniards  seem  wiser 
than  they  are ;  but  howsoever  it  be  between  na- 
tions, certainly  it  is  so  between  man  and  man ;  for, 
as  the  apostle  saith  of  godliness,  "  Having  a  show 
of  godliness,  but  denying  the  power  thereof, "  ^  so 
certainly  there  are,  in  points  of  wisdom  and  suffi- 
ciency, that  do  nothing,  or  little  very  solemnly,  — 
"  magno  conatu  nugas."  ^  It  is  a  ridiculous  thing, 
and  fit  for  a  satire  to  persons  of  judgment,  to  see 
what  shifts  these  formalists  have,  and  what  pro- 
spectives  to  make  superficies  to  seem  body,  that  hath 
depth  and  bulk.  Some  are  so  close  and  reserved, 
as  they  will  not  show  their  wares  but  by  a  dark 
light,  and  seem  always  to  keep  back  somewhat ; 
and  when  they  know  within  themselves  they  speak 
of  that  they  do  not  well  know,  would  nevertheless 
seem  to  others  to  know  of  that  which  they  may 
not  well  speak.  Some  help  themselves  with  coun- 
tenance and  gesture,  and  are  wise  by  signs ;  as 
Cicero  saith  of  Piso,  that  when  he  answered  him,  he 
fetched  one  of  his  brows  up  to  his  forehead,  and 
bent  the  other  down  to  his  chin :  "  Respondes,  altero 
ad    frontem    sublato,  altero   ad    mentum   depresso 

1  2  Tim.  iii.  6. 

•  "Trifles '.vith  great  effort." 


OF  SEEMING  WISE.  167 

supercilio ;  crudelitatem  tibi  non  placere."  ^  Some 
think  to  bear  it  by  speaking  a  great  word,  and  being 
peremptory ;  and  go  on,  and  take  by  admittance  that 
which  they  cannot  make  good.  Some,  whatsoever 
is  beyond  their  reach,  will  seem  to  despise  or  make 
light  of  it  as  impertinent  or  curious,  and  so  would 
have  their  ignorance  seem  judgment.  Some  are 
never  without  a  difference,  and  commonly  by  amus- 
ing men  with  a  subtilty,  blanch  the  matter  ;  of  whom 
A.  Gellius  saith,  "Hominem  delirum,  qui  verborum 
minutiis  rerum  frangit  pondera."^  Of  which  kind 
also  Plato,  in  his  Protagoras,  bringeth  in  Prodicus 
in  scorn,  and  maketh  him  make  a  speech  that  con- 
sisteth  of  distinctions  from  the  beginning  to  the  end.^ 
Generally  such  men,  in  all  deliberations,  find  ease 
to  be*  of  the  negative  side,  and  affect  a  credit  to 
object  and  foretell  difiiculties  ;  for  when  propositions 
are  denied,  there  is  an  end  of  them,  but  if  they  be 
allowed,  it  requireth  a  new  work ;  which  false  point 
of  wisdom  is  the  bane  of  business.  To  conclude, 
there  is  no  decaying  merchant,  or  inward  beggar,®        r 

1  "  With  one  brow  raised  to  j'our  forehead,  the  other  bent 
downward  to  your  chin,  you  answer  that  cruelty  delights  you 
not."  — In  Pis.  6. 

'^  "A  foolish  man,  who  fritters  away  the  weight  of  matters  by 
iinespun  trifling  on  words."  —  Vide  Quint,  x.  1. 

3  Plat.  Protag.  i.  337. 

*  Find  it  easier  to  make  difficulties  and  objections  than  to 
originate. 

^  One  really  in  insolvent  circumstances,  though  to  the  world 
he  does  not  appear  so. 


168  ESSAYS. 

hath  so  many  tricks  to  uphold  the  credit  of  their 
wealth,  as  these  empty  persons  have  to  maintain 
the  credit  of  their  sufficiency.  Seeming  wise  men 
may  make  shift  to  get  opinion,  but  let  no  man 
choose  them  for  employment ;  for  certainly,  you 
were  better  take  for  business  a  man  somewhat 
absurd  than  over-formal. 


V 


XXVII.  — OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


It  had  been  hard  for  him  that  spake  it,  to  have 
put  more  truth  and  untruth  together  in  few  words 
than  in  that  speech :  "  Whosoever  is  delighted  in 
solitude,  is  either  a  wild  beast  or  a  god  : "  ^  for  it  is 
most  true,  that  a  natural  and  secret  hatred  and 
aversion  towards  society  in  any  man  hath  somewhat 
of  the  savage  beast;  but  it  is  most  untrue,  that  it 
should  have  any  character  at  all  of  the  divine  nature, 
except  it  proceed,  not  out  of  a  pleasure  in  solitude, 
but  out  of  a  love  and  desire  to  sequester  a  man's  self 
for  a  higher  conversation ;  such  as  is  found  to  have 
been  falsely  and  feignedly  in  some  of  the  heathen  ; 
as  Epimenides,^  the  Candian ;   Numa,  the  Roman  ; 

^  He  here  quotes  from  a  passage  in  the  Politica  of  Aristotle, 
book  i.  "He  wlio  is  unable  to  mingle  in  society,  or  who  requires 
nothing,  by  reason  of  sufficing  for  himself,  is  no  part  of  the  state, 
80  that  he  is  either  a  wild  beast  or  a  divinity." 

^  Epimenides,  a  poet  of  Crete  (of  which  Candia  is  the  modem 
name),  is  said  by  Pliny  to  have  fallen  into  a  sleep  which  lasted 


OF  FRIENDSHIP.  169 

Empedocles,  the  Sicilian ;  and  ApoUonius,  of  Tyana ; 
and  truly  and  really  in  divers  of  the  ancient  hermits 
and  holy  fathers  of  the  church.  But  little  do  men 
perceive  what  solitude  is,  and  how  far  it  extendeth  ; 
for  a  crowd  is  not  company,  and  faces  are  but  a 
gallery  of  pictures,  and  talk  but  a  tinkling  cymbal,/ 
where  there  is  no  love.  The  Latin  adage  meeteth 
with  it  a  little :  "  Magna  civitas,  magna  solitudo :  "  ^ 
because  in  a  great  town  friends  are  scattered,  so  that 
there  is  not  that  fellowship,  for  the  most  part,  which 
is  in  less  neighborhoods  :  but  we  may  go  further, 
and  affirm  most  truly,  that  it  is  a  mere  and  miserable 
solitude  to  want  true  friends,  without  which  the 
world  is  but  a  wilderness;  and  even  in  this  sense 
also  of  solitude,  whosoever  in  the  frame  of  his  nature 
and  affections  is  unfit  for  friendship,  he  taketh  it  of 
the  beasts,  and  not  from  humanity. 

A  principal  fruit  of  friendship  is  the  ease  and  dis- 
charge of  the  fulness  and  swellings  of  the   heart, 

57  years.  He  was  also  said  to  have  lived  299  years.  Numa 
pretended  that  he  was  instructed  in  the  art  of  legislation  by  the 
divine  nymph  Egeria,  who  dwelt  in  the  Arician  grove.  Emped- 
ocles, the  Sicilian  philosopher,  declared  himself  to  be  immortal, 
and  to  be  able  to  cure  all  evils.  He  is  said  by  some  to  have 
retired  from  society  that  his  death  might  not  be  known,  and  to 
have  thrown  himself  into  the  ci-ater  of  Mount  Mtna,.  ApoUonius 
of  Tyana,  the  Pythagorean  philosopher,  pretended  to  miraculous 
powers,  and  after  his  death  a  temple  was  erected  to  him  at  that 
place.  His  life  is  recorded  by  Pliilostratus;  and  some  persons, 
among  whom  are  Hierocles,  Dr.  More,  in  his  Mystery  of  Godliness, 
and  recently  Strauss,  have  not  hesitated  to  compare  his  miracles 
with  those  of  our  Saviour. 

1  "  A  great  city,  a  great  desert." 


170  ESSAYS. 

which  passions  of  all  kinds  do  cause  and  induce. 
We  know  diseases  of  stoppings  and  suffocations  are 
the  most  dangerous  in  the  body,  and  it  is  not  much 
otherwise  in  the  mind.  You  may  take  sarza  ^  to 
open  the  liver,  steel  to  open  the  spleen,  flower  of 
sulphur  for  the  lungs,  castoreum  ^  for  the  brain,  but 
no  receipt  openeth  the  heart  but  a  true  friend,  to 
whom  you  may  impart  griefs,  joys,  fears,  hopes, 
suspicions,  counsels,  and  whatsoever  lieth  upon  the 
heart  to  oppress  it,  in  a  kind  of  civil  shrift  or 
confession. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  to  observe  how  high  a  rate 
great  kings  and  monarchs  do  set  upon  this  fruit  of 
friendship  whereof  we  speak ;  so  great,  as  they  pur- 
chase it  many  times  at  the  hazard  of  their  own  safety 
and  greatness  ;  for  princes,  in  regard  of  the  distance 
of  their  fortune  from  that  of  their  subjects  and  ser- 
vants, cannot  gather  this  fruit,  except  (to  make  them- 
selves capable  thereof)  they  raise  some  persons  to  be 
as  it  were  companions,  and  almost  equals  to  them- 
selves, which  many  times  sorteth  to  inconvenience. 
The  modem  languages  give  unto  such  persons  the 
name  of  favorites,  or  privadoes,  as  if  it  were  matter 
of  grace  or  conversation ;  but  the  Roman  name  at- 
taineth  the  true  use  and  cause  thereof,  naming  them 
"  participes  curarum ;  "  ^  for  it  is  that  which  tieth 
the  knot.     And  we  see  plainly  that  this  hath  been 

1  Sarsaparilla. 

3  A  liquid  matter  of  a  pungent  smell,  extracted  from  a  portion  of 
the  body  of  the  beaver. 
*  "  Partakers  of  cares." 


OF  FRIENDSHIP.  171 

done,  not  by  weak  and  passionate  princes  only,  but 
by  the  wisest  and  most  politic  that  ever  reigned,  who 
have  oftentimes  joined  to  themselves  some  of  their 
servants,  whom  both  themselves  have  called  friends, 
and  allowed  others  likewise  to  call  them  in  the  same 
manner,  using  the  word  which  is  received  between 
private  men. 

L.  Sylla,  when  he  commanded  Rome,  raised  Pom- 
pey  (after  surnamed  the  Great)  to  that  height,  that 
Pompey  vaunted  himself  for  Sylla's  overmatch ;  for 
when  he  had  carried  the  consulship  for  a  friend  of 
his,  against  the  pursuit  of  Sylla,  and  that  Sylla  did  a 
little  resent  thereat,  and  began  to  speak  great,  Pora- 
pey  turned  upon  him  again,  and,  in  effect,  bade  him 
be  quiet ;  for  that  more  men  adored  the  sun  rising 
than  the  sun  setting.^  With  Julius  Csesar,  Decimus 
Brutus  had  obtained  that  interest,  as  he  set  him 
down  in  his  testament  for  heir  in  remainder  after  his 
nephew ;  and  this  was  the  man  that  had  power  with 
him  to  draw  him  forth  to  his  death  ;  for  when  Caesar 
would  have  discharged  the  senate,  in  regard  of  some 
ill  presages,  and  specially  a  dream  of  Calphumia,  this 
man  lifted  him  gently  by  the  arm  out  of  his  chair, 
telling  him  he  hoped  he  would  not  dismiss  the  senate 
till  his  wife  had  dreamt  a  better  dream ;  ^  and  it 
seemeth  his  favor  was  so  great,  as  Antonius,  in  a 
letter  which  is  recited  verbatim  in  one  of  Cicero's 

1  Plutarch  {Vit.  Pomp.  19)  relates  that  Pompey  said  this  upon 
Sylla's  refusal  to  give  him  a  triumph. 

2  Plut.  Vit.  J.  Gees.  64. 


172  ESSAYS. 

Philippics,  calleth  him  venefica,  "witch,"  as  if  he 
had  enchanted  Csesar.^  Augustus  raised  Agrippa 
(though  of  mean  birth)  to  that  height,  as,  when  he 
consulted  with  Maecenas  about  the  marriage  of  his 
daughter  Julia,  Maecenas  took  the  liberty  to  tell  him, 
that  he  must  either  marry  his  daughter  to  Agrippa, 
or  take  away  his  life ;  there  was  no  third  way,  he 
had  made  him  so  great.  With  Tiberius  Caesar,  Se- 
janus  had  ascended  to  that  height,  as  they  two  were 
termed  and  reckoned  as  a  pair  of  friends.  Tiberius, 
in  a  letter  to  him,  saith,  "  Hsec  pro  amiciti^  nostra 
non  occultavi ; "  ^  and  the  whole  senate  dedicated  an 
altar  to  Friendship,  as  to  a  goddess,  in  respect  of 
the  great  dearness  of  friendship  between  them  two. 
The  like,  or  more,  was  between  Septimius  Severus 
and  Plautianus ;  for  he  forced  his  eldest  son  to 
marry  the  daughter  of  Plautianus,  and  would  often 
maintain  Plautianus  in  doing  affronts  to  his  son  ; 
and  did  write,  also,  in  a  letter  to  the  senate,  by  these 
words  :  "  I  love  the  man  so  well,  as  I  wish  he  may 
over-live  me."  ^  Now,  if  these  princes  had  been  as  a 
Trajan,  or  a  Marcus  Aurelius,  a  man  might  have 
thought  that  this  had  proceeded  of  an  abundant 
goodness  of  nature ;  but  being  men  so  wise,*  of  such 
strength  and  severity  of  mind,  and  so  extreme  lovers 

1  Cic.  Philip,  xiii.  11. 

2  "  These  things,  by  reason  of  our  friendship,  I  have  not  con- 
cealed/toot  you." —  Vide  Tac.  Ann.  iv.  40. 

■  Dio  Cass.  Ixxv. 

*  Such  infamous  men  as  Tiberius  and  Sejanus  hardly  deserve  this 
commendation. 


OF  FRIENDSHIP.  173 

of  themselves,  as  all  these  were,  it  proveth  most 
plainly  that  they  found  their  own  felicity  (though  as 
great  as  ever  happened  to  mortal  men)  but  as  an 
half-piece,  except  they  might  have  a  friend  to  make 
it  entire  ;  and  yet,  which  is  more,  they  were  princes 
that  had  wives,  sons,  nephews ;  and  yet  all  these 
could  not  supply  the  comfort  of  friendship. 

It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  what  Comineus  ^  observ- 
eth  of  his  first  master,  Duke  Charles  the  Hardy ,^ 
namely,  that  he  would  communicate  his  secrets  with 
none,  and,  least  of  all,  those  secrets  which  troubled 
him  most.  Whereupon  he  goeth  on,  and  saith,  that 
towards  his  latter  time,  that  closeness  did  impair 
and  a  little  perish  his  understanding.  Surely,  Comi- 
neus might  have  made  the  same  judgment,  also,  if 
it  had  pleased  him,  of  his  second  master,  Louis  the 
Eleventh,  whose  closeness  was  indeed  his  tormentor. 
The  parable  of  Pythagoras  is  dark,  but  true :  "  Cor 
ne   edito,"  "  eat  not   the   heart."  ^     Certainly,  if  a 

*  Philip  de  Comines. 

'  Charles  the  Bold,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  valiant  antagonist 
of  Louis  XI.  of  France.  De  Comines  spent  his  early  years  at 
his  court,  but  afterwards  passed  into  the  service  of  Louis  XL 
This  monarch  was  notorious  for  his  cruelty,  treachery,  and  dis- 
simulation, and  had  all  the  bad  qualities  of  his  contemporary,  Ed- 
ward IV.  of  England,  without  any  of  his  redeeming  virtues. 

'  Pythagoras  went  still  further  than  this,  as  he  forbade  his 
disciples  to  eat  flesh  of  any  kind  whatever.  See  the  interesting 
speech  which  Ovid  attributes  to  him  in  the  fifteenth  book  of  tha 
Metamorphoses.  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  in  his  Pseudoxia  (Browne's 
Works,  Bohn's  Antiq.  ed.  vol.  i.  p.  27,  et  seq.\  gives  some  curious 
explanations  of  the  doctrines  of  this  philosopher.  —  PliU,.  de  EduccU. 
Pwr.  17. 


174  ESSAYS. 

man  would  give  it  a  hard  phrase,  those  that  want 
friends  to  open  themselves  unto  are  cannibals  of 
their  own  hearts ;  but  one  thing  is  most  admirable 
(wherewith  I  will  conclude  this  first  fruit  of  friend- 
ship), which  is,  that  this  communicating  of  a  man's 
self  to  his  friend  works  two  contrary  effects,  for  it 
redoubleth  joys,  and  cutteth  griefs  in  halves ;  for 
/there  is  no  man  that  imparteth  his  joys  to  his  friend, 
(  but  he  joyeth  the  more ;  and  no  man  that  imparteth 
Vhis  griefs  to  his  friend,  but  he  grieveth  the  less. 
So  that  it  is,  in  truth,  of  operation  upon  a  man's 
mind  of  like  virtue  as  the  alchemists  used  to  attrib- 
ute to  their  stone  for  man's  body,  that  it  worketh  all 
contrary  effects,  but  still  to  the  good  and  benefit  of 
nature.  But ,  yet,  without  praying  in  aid  of  al- 
chemists, there  is  a  manifest  image  of  this  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  nature ;  for,  in  bodies,  union 
strengtheneth  and  cherisheth  any  natural  action ; 
and,  on  the  other  side,  weakeneth  and  duUeth  any 
violent  impression  ;  and  even  so  it  is  of  minds. 

The  second  fruit  of  friendship  is  healthful  and  sov- 
ereign for  the  understanding,  as  the  first  is  for  the 
affections ;  for  friendship  maketh  indeed  a  fair  day 
in  the  affections  from  storm  and  tempests,  but  it 
maketh  daylight  in  the  understanding,  out  of  dark- 
ness and  conftision  of  thoughts.  Neither  is  this  to 
be  understood  only  of  faithful  counsel,  which  a  man 
receiveth  from  his  friend ;  but  before  you  come 
to  that,  certain  it  is,  that  whosoever  hath  his 
mind  fraught  with    many  thoughts,  his  wits   and 


OF  FRIENDSHIP.  175 

understanding  do  clarify  and  break  up  in  the  commu- 
nicating and  discoursing  with  another ;  he  tosseth 
his  thoughts  more  easily  ;  he  marshalleth  them  more 
orderly ;  he  seeth  how  they  look  when  they  are 
turned  into  words  ;  finally,  he  waxeth  wiser  than 
himself ;  and  that  more  by  an  hour's  discourse  than 
by  a  day's  meditation.  It  was  well  said  by  The- 
raistocles  to  the  king  of  Persia :  "  That  speech  was 
like  cloth  of  Arras,^  opened  and  put  abroad,  whereby 
the  imagery  doth  appear  in  figure ;  whereas  in 
thoughts  they  lie  but  as  in  packs."  ^  Neither  is  this 
second  fruit  of  friendship,  in  opening  the  under- 
standing, restrained  only  to  such  fi'iends  as  are  able 
to  give  a  man  counsel  (they  indeed  are  best),  but 
even  without  that  a  man  learneth  of  himself,  and 
bringeth  his  own  thoughts  to  light,  and  whetteth  his 
wits  as  against  a  stone,  which  itself  cuts  not.  In  a 
word,  a  man  were  better  relate  himself  to  a  statue 
or  picture,  than  to  suffer  his  thoughts  to  pass  in 
smother. 

Add  now,  to  make  this  second  fruit  of  friendship 
complete,  that  other  point  which  lieth  more  open, 
and  falleth  within  vulgar  observation ;  which  is 
faithful  counsel  from  a  friend.  Heraclitus  saith 
well,  in  one  of  his  enigmas,  "  Dry  light  is  ever  the 
best ;  "  ^  and  certain  it  is,  that  the  light  that  a  man 

1  Tapestry.  Speaking  hypercritically,  Lord  Bacon  commits  an 
anachronism  here,  as  Arras  did  not  manufacture  tapestry  till  the 
middle  ages. 

8  Plut.  Vit.  Themist.  28. 

»  Ap.  Stob.  Serm.  v.  120. 


176  ESSAYS. 

receiveth  by  counsel  from  another,  is  drier  and 
purer  than  that  which  cometh  from  his  own  under- 
standing and  judgment,  which  is  ever  inftised  and 
drenched  in  his  affections  and  customs.  So,  as  there 
is  as  much  difference  between  the  counsel  that  a 
friend  giveth,  and  that  a  man  giveth  himself,  as  there 
is  between  the  counsel  of  a  friend  and  of  a  flatterer ; 
for  there  is  no  such  flatterer  as  is  a  man's  self,  and 
there  is  no  such  remedy  against  flattery  of  a  man's 
self,  as  the  liberty  of  a  friend.  Counsel  is  of  two 
sorts,  —  the  one  concerning  manners,  the  other  con- 
cerning business ;  for  the  first,  the  best  preservative 
to  keep  the  mind  in  health,  is  the  faithful  admonition 
of  a  friend.  The  calling  of  a  man's  self  to  a  strict 
account  is  a  medicine  sometimes  too  piercing  and 
corrosive  ;  reading  good  books  of  morality  is  a  little 
flat  and  dead ;  observing  our  faults  in  others  is 
sometimes  improper  for  our  case ;  but  the  best  re- 
ceipt (best,  I  say,  to  work,  and  best  to  take),  is  the 
admonition  of  a  friend.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to 
behold  what  gross  errors  and  extreme  absurdities 
many  (especially  of  the  greater  sort)  do  commit 
for  want  of  a  friend  to  tell  them  of  them,  to  the 
great  damage  both  of  their  fame  and  fortune;  for, 
as  St.  James  saith,  they  are  as  men  "that  look 
sometimes  into  a  glass,  and  presently  forget  their 
own  shape  and  favor."  ^  As  for  business,  a  man 
may  think,  if  he  will,  that  two  eyes  see  no  more 
than  one;  or,  that  a  gamester  seeth  always  more 

^  James  i.  23. 


OF  FRIENDSHIP.  177 

than  a  looker-on ;  or,  that  a  man  in  anger  is  as  wise 
as  he  that  has  said  over  the  four  and  twenty  let- 
ters ;  ^  or,  that  a  musket  may  be  shot  off  as  well 
upon  the  arm  as  upon  a  rest ;  ^  and  such  other  fond 
and  high  imaginations,  to  think  himself  all  in  all ; 
but  when  all  is  done,  the  help  of  good  counsel  is 
that  which  setteth  business  straight.  And  if  any 
man  think  that  he  will  take  counsel,  but  it  shall  be 
by  pieces,  asking  counsel  in  one  business  of  one 
man,  and  in  another  business  of  another  man ;  it  is 
well  (that  is  to  say,  better,  perhaps,  than  if  he 
asked  none  at  all) ;  but  he  runneth  two  dangers,  — 
one,  that  he  shall  not  be  faithfully  counselled ;  for 
it  is  a  rare  thing,  except  it  be  from  a  perfect  and 
entire  friend,  to  have  counsel  given,  but  such  as 
shall  be  bowed  and  crooked  to  some  ends  which  he 
hath  that  giveth  it ;  the  other,  that  he  shall  have 
counsel  given,  hurtful  and  unsafe  (though  with  good 
meaning),  and  mixed  partly  of  mischief,  and  partly 
of  remedy;  even  as  if  you  would  call  a  physician, 
that  is  thought  good  for  the  cure  of  the  disease  you 
complain  of,  but  is  unacquainted  with  your  body ; 
and,  therefore,  may  put  you  in  a  way  for  a  present 
cure,  but  overthroweth  your  health  in  some  other 
kind,  and  so  cure  the  disease  and  kill  the  patient. 

1  He  alludes  to  the  recommendation  which  moralists  have  often 
given,  that  a  person  in  anger  should  go  through  the  alphabet  to 
himself,  before  he  allows  himself  to  speak. 

*  In  his  day,  the  musket  was  fixed  upon  a  stand,  called  the 
"rest,"  much  as  the  giugals  or  matchlocks  are  used  in  the  East  at 
the  present  day. 

12 


178  \  ESSAYS. 

But  a  friend,  that  is  wholly  acquainted  with  a 
man's  estate,  will  beware,  by  furthering  any  present 
business,  how  he  dasheth  upon  other  inconvenience ; 
and,  therefore,  rest  not  upon  scattered  counsels ; 
they  wUl  rather  distract  and  mislead,  than  settle 
and  direct. 

After  these  two  noble  fruits  of  friendship  (peace 
in  the  affections,  and  support  of  the  judgment), 
followeth  the  last  fruit,  which  is  like  the  pomegran- 
ate, full  of  many  kernels ;  I  mean  aid,  and  bearing 
a  part  in  all  actions  and  occasions.  Here  the  best 
way  to  represent  to  life  the  manifold  use  of  friend- 
ship, is  to  cast  and  see  how  many  things  there  are 
which  a  man  cannot  do  himself;  and  then  it  will 
appear  that  it  was  a  sparing  speech  of  the  ancients 
to  say,  "  that  a  friend  is  another  himself,"  for  that 
a  friend  is  far  more  than  himself.  Men  have  their 
time,  and  die  many  times  in  desire  of  some  things 
which  they  principally  take  to  heart ;  the  bestowing 
of  a  child,  the  finishing  of  a  work,  or  the  like.  If 
a  man  have  a  true  friend,  he  may  rest  almost  secure 
that  the  care  of  those  things  will  continue  after  him  ; 
so  that  a  man  hath,  as  it  were,  two  lives  in  his  de- 
sires. A  man  hath  a  body,  and  that  body  is  con- 
fined to  a  place ;  but  where  friendship  is,  all  offices 
of  life  are,  as  it  were,  granted  to  him  and  his  deputy, 
for  he  may  exercise  them  by  his  friend.  How 
many  things  are  there,  which  a  man  cannot,  with 
any  face  or  comeliness,  say  or  do  himself?  A  man 
can  scarce   allege   his    own   merits  with   modesty, 


OF  EXPENSE.  /179 

much  less  extol  them ;  a  man  cannot  sometimes 
Lrook  to  supplicate,  or  beg,  and  a  number  of  the 
like  ;  but  all  these  things  are  graceful  in  a  friend's 
mouth,  which  are  blushing  in  a  man's  own.  So, 
again,  a  man's  person  hath  many  proper  relations 
which  he  cannot  put  off.  A  man  cannot  speak  to  his 
son  but  as  a  father ;  to  his  wife  but  as  a  husband ; 
to  his  enemy  but  upon  terms ;  whereas,  a  friend 
may  speak  as  the  case  requires,  and  not  as  it  sorteth 
with  the  person.  But  to  enumerate  these  things 
were  endless ;  I  have  given  the  rule,  where  a  man 
cannot  fitly  play  his  own  part.  If  he  have  not  a 
friend,  he  may  quit  the  stage. 


vC 


XXVIII.  — OF  EXPENSE. 

Riches  are  for  spending,  and  spending  for  honor 
and  good  actions;  therefore,  extraordinary  expense 
must  be  limited  by  the  worth  of  the  occasion ;  for 
voluntary  undoing  may  be  as  well  for  a  man's  coun- 
try as  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  but  ordinary 
expense  ought  to  be  limited  by  a  man's  estate,  and 
governed  with  such  regard,  as  it  be  within  his  com- 
pass, and  not  subject  to  deceit  and  abuse  of  servants, 
and  ordered  to  the  best  show,  that  the  bills  may  be 
less  than  the  estimation  abroad.  Certainly,  if  a 
man  will    keep    but  of   even    hand,   his   ordinary 


180  ESSAYS. 

expenses  ought  to  be  but  to  the  half  of  his  receipts  ; 
and,  if  he  think  to  wax  rich,  but  to  the  third  part. 
It  is  no  baseness  for  the  greatest  to  descend  and 
look  into  their  own  estate.  Some  forbear  it,  not 
upon  negligence  alone,  but  doubting  to  bring  them- 
selves into  melancholy,  in  respect  they  shall  find  it 
broken ;  but  wounds  cannot  be  cured  without  search- 
ing. He  that  cannot  look  into  his  own  estate  at 
all,  had  need  both  choose  well  those  whom  he  em- 
ployeth,  and  change  them  often ;  for  new  are  more 
timorous,  and  less  subtle.  He  that  can  look  into 
his  estate  but  seldom,  it  behooveth  him  to  turn  all 
to  certainties.  A  man  had  need,  if  he  be  plentiful 
in  some  kind  of  expense,  to  be  as  saving  again  in 
some  other:  as,  if  he  be  plentiful  in  diet,  to  be 
saving  in  apparel ;  if  he  be  plentiful  in  the  hall,  to 
be  saving  in  the  stable ;  and  the  like.  For  he  that 
is  plentiful  in  expenses  of  all  kinds,  will  hardly 
be  preserved  from  decay.  In  clearing^  of  a  man's 
estate,  he  may  as  well  hurt  himself  in  being  too 
sudden,  as  in  letting  it  run  on  too  long;  for  hasty 
selling  is  commonly  as  disadvantageable  as  interest. 
Besides,  he  that  clears  at  once  will  relapse ;  for, 
finding  himself  out  of  straits,  he  will  revert  to  his 
customs ;  but  he  that  cleareth  by  degrees  induceth 
a  habit  of  frugality,  and  gaineth  as  well  upon  his 
mind  as  upon  his  estate.  Certainly,  who  hath  a 
state  to  repair,  may  not  despise  small  things ;  and, 
commonly,  it  is  less  di^onorable  to  abridge  petty 

^  From  debts  and  incumbrancea. 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES.  181 

charges,  than  to  stoop  to  petty  getticgs.  A  man 
ought  warily  to  begin  charges,  wiiich  once  begun 
will  continue;  but  in  matters  that  return  not,  he 
may  be  more  magnificent. 


XXIX.  —  OF  THE  TRUE  GREATNESS  OF  KING- 
DOMS AND  ESTATES. 

The  speech  of  Themistocles,  the  Athenian,  which 
was  haughty  and  arrogant,  in  taking  so  much  to 
himself,  had  been  a  grave  and  wise  observation  and 
censure,  applied  at  large  to  others.  Desired  at  a 
feast  to  touch  a  lute,  he  said,  "  He  could  not  fiddle, 
but  yet  he  could  make  a  small  town  a  great  city."^ 
These  words  (holpen  a  little  with  a  metaphor)  may 
express  two  difi^erent  abilities  in  those  that  deal  in 
business  of  estate;  for  if  a  true  survey  be  taken 
of  counsellors  and  statesmen,  there  may  be  found 
(though  rarely)  those  which  can  make  a  small  state 
great,  and  yet  cannot  fiddle :  as,  on  the  other  side 
there  will  be  found  a  great  many  that  can  fiddle 
very  cunningly,  but  yet  are  so  far  from  being  able 
to  make  a  small  state  great,  as  their  gift  lieth  the 
other  way,  —  to  bring  a  great  and  flourishing  estate 
to  niin  and  decay.  And  certainly,  those  degenerate 
arts  and  shifts,  whereby  many  counsellors  and  gov- 
ernors   gain    both    favor    with    their   masters    and 

1  Plut.  Yit.  Themist.  ad  init 


182  ESSAYS. 

estimation  with  the  vulgar,  deserve  no  better  name 
than  fiddling;  being  things  rather  pleasing  for  the 
time,  and  graceful  to  themselves  only,  than  tending 
to  the  weal  and  advancement  of  the  state  which 
they  serve.  There  are  also  (no  doubt)  counsellors 
and  governors  which  may  be  held  sufficient,  "  nego- 
tiis  pares," -^  able  to  manage  affairs,  and  to  keep 
them  from  precipices  and  manifest  inconveniences; 
which,  nevertheless,  are  far  from  the  ability  to  raise 
and  amplify  an  estate  in  power,  means,  and  fortune. 
But  be  the  workmen  what  they  may  be,  let  us  speak 
of  the  work ;  that  is,  the  true  greatness  of  kingdoms 
and  estates,  and  the  means  thereof.  An  argument 
fit  for  great  and  mighty  princes  to  have  in  their 
hand ;  to  the  end,  that  neither  by  overmeasuring 
their  forces,  they  lose  themselves  in  vain  enterprises : 
nor,  on  the  other  side,  by  undervaluing  them,  they 
descend  to  fearful  and  pusillanimous  counsels. 

The  greatness  of  an  estate,  in  bulk  and  territory, 
doth  fall  under  measure ;  and  the  greatness  of 
finances  and  revenue  doth  fall  under  computation. 
The  population  may  appear  by  musters,  and  the 
number  and  greatness  of  cities  and  towns  by  cards 
and  maps;  but  yet  there  is  not  anything  amongst 
civil  aflFairs  more  subject  to  error  than  the  right 
valuation  and  true  judgment  concerning  the  power 
and  forces  of  an  estate.  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  compared,  not  to  any  great  kernel,  or  nut,  but  to 

1  "  Equal  to  busiaesa." 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES.  183 

a  grain  of  mustard-seed ;  ^  which  is  one  of  the  least 
grains,  but  hath  in  it  a  property  and  spirit  hastily 
to  get  up  and  spread.  So  are  there  states  great  in 
territory,  and  yet  not  apt  to  enlarge  or  command; 
and  some  that  have  but  a  small  dimension  of  stem, 
and  yet  apt  to  be  the  foundations  of  great  mon- 
archies. 

Walled  towns,  stored  arsenals  and  armories,  goodly 
races  of  horse,  chariots  of  war,  elephants,  ordnance, 
artillery,  and  the  like ;  all  this  is  but  a  sheep  in  a 
lion's  skin,  except  the  breed  and  disposition  of  the 
people  be  stout  and  warlike.  Nay,  number  itself 
in  armies  importeth  not  much,  where  the  people  is 
of  weak  courage ;  for,  as  Virgil  saith,  "  It  never 
tr<mbles  a  wolf  how  many  the  sheep  be."^  The 
army  of  the  Persians  in  the  plains  of  Arbela  was 
such  a  vast  sea  of  people,  as  it  did  somewhat  as- 
tonish the  commanders  in  Alexander's  army,  who 
came  to  him,  therefore,  and  wished  him  to  set  upon 
them  by  night;  but  he  answered,  "He  would  not 
pilfer  the  victory;"  and  the  defeat  was  easy.^  — 
When   Tigranes,*   the    Armenian,    being    encamped 

1  He  alludes  to  the  following  passage,  St.  Matthew  xiii.  31  : 
"  Another  parable  put  he  forth  unto  them,  saying,  The  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  like  to  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  which  a  man  took  and 
sowed  in  his  field  ;  which  indeed  is  the  least  of  all  seeds  ;  but  when 
it  is  grown,  it  is  the  greatest  among  herbs,  and  becometh  a  tree, 
so  that  the  birds  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof." 

2  Virg.  Eel.  vii.  51.  «  Vide.  A.  L.  i.  vii.  11. 

<  He  was  vanquished  by  Lucullus,  and  finally  submitted  to 
Pompey. — Plut,  Fit.  Lucull.  27. 


184  ESSAYS. 

upon  a  hill  with  four  hundred  thousand  men,  dis- 
covered the  army  of  the  Romans,  being  not  above 
fourteen  thousand,  marching  towards  him,  he  made 
himself  merry  with  it,  and  said,  "  Yonder  men  are 
too  many  for  an  arabassage,  and  too  few  for  a  fight ; " 
but  before  the  sun  set,  he  found  them  enow  to  give 
him  the  chase  with  infinite  slaughter.  Many  are 
the  examples  of  the  great  odds  between  number  and 
courage;  so  that  a  man  may  truly  make  a  judgment, 
that  the  principal  point  of  greatness  in  any  state  is 
to  have  a  race  of  military  men.  Neither  is  money 
the  sinews  of  war  (as  it  is  trivially  said),  where  the 
sinews  of  men's  arms,  in  base  and  effeminate  people, 
are  failing:  for  Solon  said  well  to  Croesus  (when 
in  ostentation  he  showed  him  his  gold),  "  Sir,  if  any 
other  come  that  hath  better  iron  than  you,  he  will 
be  master  of  all  this  gold."  Therefore,  let  any  priuce 
or  state,  think  soberly  of  his  forces,  except  his  mil- 
itia of  natives  be  of  good  and  valiant  soldiers ;  and 
let  princes,  on  the  other  side,  that  have  subjects  of 
martial  disposition,  know  their  own  strength,  unless 
they  be  otherwise  wanting  unto  themselves.  As  for 
mercenary  forces  (which  is  the  help  in  this  case),  all 
examples  show  that,  whatsoever  estate  or  prince  doth 
rest  upon  them,  he  may  spread  his  feathers  for  a 
time,  but  he  will  mew  them  soon  after. 

The  blessing  of  Judah  and  Issachar^  will  never 

^  He  alludes  to  the  prophetic  words  of  Jacob  on  his  death-l>ed. 
Gen.  xlix,  9,  14,  15:  "Judah  is  a  lion's  whelp;  ...  he  stooped 
down,  he  couched  as  a  lion,  and  as  an  old  lion. . . .  Issachar  la 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES.  185 

meet ;  that  the  same  people,  or  nation,  should  be 
both  the  lion's  whelp  and  the  ass  between  burdens ; 
neither  will  it  be,  that  a  people  overlaid  with  taxes 
should  ever  become  valiant  and  martial.  It  is  true 
that  taxes,  levied  by  consent  of  the  estate,  do  abate 
men's  courage  less ;  as  it  hath  been  seen  notably 
in  the  excises  of  the  Low  Countries,  and,  in  some 
degree,  in  the  subsidies  ^  of  England ;  for,  you  must 
note,  that  we  speak  now  of  the  heart,  and  not  of  the 
purse ;  so  that,  although  the  same  tribute  and  tax, 
laid  by  consent  or  by  imposing,  be  all  one  to  the 
purse,  yet  it  works  diversely  upon  the  courage.  So 
that  you  may  conclude,  that  no  people  overcharged 
with  tribute  is  fit  for  empire. 

Let  states  that  aim  at  greatness  take  heed  how 
their  nobility  and  gentlemen  do  multiply  too  fast ; 
for  that  maketh  the  common  subject  grow  to  be  a 
peasant  and  base  swain,  driven  out  of  heart,  and, 
in  effect,  but  the  gentleman's  laborer.  Even  as  you 
may  see  in  coppice  woods ;  if  you  leave  your  stad- 
dles^  too  thick,  you  shall  never  have  clean  under- 
wood, but  shrubs  and  bushes.  So  in  countries,  if 
the  gentlemen  be  too  many,  the  commons  will  be 
base ;    and  you  will  bring  it  to  that,  that  not  the 

a  strong  ass  couching  down  between  two  burdens :  And  he  saw 
that  rest  was  good,  and  the  land  that  it  was  pleasant  ;  and  bowed 
his  shoulder  to  bear,  and  became  a  servant  unto  tribute." 

1  Sums  of  money  voluntarily  contributed  by  the  people  for  the 
use  of  the  sovereign. 

2  Youne:  trees. 


186  ESSAYS 

hundred  poll  will  be  fit  for  a  helmet,  especially  as 
to  the  infantry,  which  is  the  nerve  of  an  army ; 
and  so  there  will  be  great  population  and  little 
strength.  This  which  I  speak  of,  hath  been  nowhere 
better  seen  than  by  comparing  of  England  and 
France;  whereof  England,  though  far  less  in  terri- 
tory and  population,  hath  been,  nevertheless,  an 
overmatch ;  in  regard,  the  middle  people  of  Eng- 
land make  good  soldiers,  which  the  peasants  of 
France  do  not.  And  herein  the  device  of  King 
Henry  the  Seventh  (whereof  I  have  spoken  largely 
in  the  history  of  his  life)  was  profound  and  admira- 
ble ;  in  making  farms  and  houses  of  husbandry  of 
a  standard,  that  is,  maintained  with  such  a  propor- 
tion of  land  unto  them  as  may  breed  a  subject  to 
live  in  convenient  plenty,  and  no  servile  condition, 
and  to  keep  the  plough  in  the  hands  of  the  owners, 
and  not  mere  hirelings ;  and  thus,  indeed,  you  shall 
attain  to  Virgil's  character,  which  he  gives  to  an- 
cient Italy:  — 

"  Terra  potens  armis  atque  ubere  glebse."  ^ 

Neither  is  that  state  (which,  for  anything  I  know, 
is  almost  peculiar  to  England,  and  hardly  to  be 
found  anywhere  else,  except  it  be,  perhaps,  in  Po- 
land), to  be  passed  over;  I  mean  the  state  of  free 
servants  and  attendants  upon  noblemen  and  gentle- 
men, which  are  noways  inferior  unto  the  yeomanry 

1  "A  land  strong  in  arms  and  in  the  richness  of  the  soil."  -^ 
Virg.  JEn.  L  535. 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES.  187 

for  arms ;  and,  therefore,  out  of  all  question,  the 
splendor  and  magnificence,  and  great  retinues,  and 
hospitality  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen  received  into 
custom,  do  much  conduce  unto  martial  greatness; 
whereas,  contrariwise,  the  close  and  reserved  living 
of  noblemen  and  gentlemen  causeth  a  penury  of 
military  forces. 

By  all  means,  it  is  to  be  procured  that  the  trunk 
of  Nebuchadnezzar's  tree  of  monarchy  ^  be  great 
enough  to  bear  the  branches  and  the  boughs ;  that 
is,  that  the  natural  subjects  of  the  crown,  or  state, 
bear  a  sufficient  proportion  to  the  stranger  subjects 
that  they  govern.  Therefore,  all  states  that  are 
liberal  of  naturalization  towards  strangers  are  fit  for 
empire ;  for  to  think  that  a  handful  of  people  can, 
with  the  greatest  courage  and  policy  in  the  world, 
embrace  too  large  extent  of  dominion,  it  may  hold 
for  a  time,  but  it  will  fail  suddenly.  The  Spartans 
were  a  nice  people  in  point  of  naturalization  ;  where- 
by, while  they  kept  their  compass,  they  stood  firm  ; 
but  when  they  did  spread,  and  their  boughs  were 
becoming  too  great  for  their  stem,  they  became  a 
windfall  upon  the  sudden.      Never  any  state  was, 

^  He  alludes  to  the  dream  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  which  is  men- 
tioned Daniel  iv.  10  ;  "1  saw,  and  behold  a  tree  in  the  midst  of 
the  earth,  and  the  height  thereof  was  great.  The  tree  grew,  and 
was  strong,  and  the  height  thereof  reached  unto  heaven,  and  the 
sight  thereof  to  the  end  of  all  the  earth  :  the  leaves  thereof  were 
fair,  and  the  fruit  thereof  much,  and  in  it  was  meat  for  all  ;  the 
beasts  of  the  field  had  shadow  under  it,  and  the  fowls  of  the 
heaven  dwelt  in  the  boughs  thereof,  and  all  flesh  was  fed  of  it." 


188  ESSAYS. 

in  this  point,  so  open  to  receive  strangers  into  their 
body  as  were  the  Romans  ;  therefore,  it  sorted  with 
them  accordingly,  for  they  grew  to  the  greatest 
monarchy.  Their  manner  was  to  grant  naturali- 
zation (which  they  called  "jus  civitatis  "),^  and  to 
grant  it  in  the  highest  degree,  that  is,  not  only 
"jus  commercii,"'^  "jus  connubii,"^  "jus  hsereditatis;  "* 
but,  also,  "jus  suflfragii,"^  and  "jus  honorum;"^ 
and  this  not  to  singular  persons  alone,  but  likewise 
to  whole  families ;  yea,  to  cities  and  sometimes  to 
nations.  Add  to  this  their  custom  of  plantation  of 
colonies,  whereby  the  Roman  plant  was  removed 
into  the  soil  of  other  nations,  and,  putting  both 
constitutions  together,  you  will  say,  that  it  was  not 
the  Romans  that  spread  upon  the  world,  but  it  was 
the  world  that  spread  upon  the  Romans;  and  that 
was  the  sure  way  of  greatness.  I  have  marvelled 
sometimes  at  Spain,  how  they  clasp  and  contain  so 
large  dominions  mth  so  few  natural  Spaniards ;  ^ 
but  sure  the  whole  compass  of  Spain  is  a  very 
great  body  of  a  tree,  far  above  Rome  and  Sparta  at 
the  first;  and,  besides,  though  they  have  not  had 
that  usage  to  naturalize  liberally,  yet  they  have 
that  which  is  next  to  it ;  that  is,  to  employ,  almost 

^  "Right  of  citizenship."  ^  "Right  of  trading." 

*  "  Right  of  intermarriage."  *  "Right  of  inheritance." 

'  "  Right  of  suffrage."  •  "Right  of  honors." 

''  Long  since  the  time  of  Lord  Bacon,  as  soon  as  these  colonies 

had  arrived  at  a  certain  state  of  maturity,  they  at  different  period* 

revolted  from  the  mother  country. 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES,  189 

indifferently,  all  nations  in  their  militia  of  ordinary 
soldiers;  yea,  and  sometimes  in  their  highest  com- 
mands; nay,  it  seemeth  at  this  instant  they  are 
sensible  of  this  want  of  natives,  as  by  the  pragmat- 
ical sanction,^  now  published,  appeareth. 

It  is  certain  that  sedentary  and  within-door  arts, 
and  delicate  manufactures  (that  require  rather  the 
finger  than  the  arm),  have  in  their  nature  a  contra- 
riety to  a  military  disposition ;  and,  generally,  all 
warlike  people  are  a  little  idle,  and  love  danger 
better  than  travail ;  neither  must  they  be  too  much 
broken  of  it,  if  they  shall  be  preserved  in  vigor. 
Therefore,  it  was  great  advantage  in  the  ancient 
states  of  Sparta,  Athens,  Rome,  and  others,  that 
they  had  the  use  of  slaves,  which  commonly  did 
rid  those  manufactures;  but  that  is  abolished,  in 
greatest  part,  by  the  Christian  law.  That  which 
cometh  nearest  to  it  is,  to  leave  those  arts  chiefly  to 
strangers  (which,  for  that  purpose,  are  the  more 
easily  to  be  received),  and  to  contain  the  principal 
bulk  of  the  vulgar  natives  within  those  three  kinds, 
tillers  of  the  ground,  free  servants,  and  handicrafts- 
men of  strong  and  manly  arts;  as  smiths,  masons, 
carpenters,  &c.,  not  reckoning  professed  soldiers. 

But,  above  all,  for  empire  and  greatness,  it  im- 
porteth  most,  that  a  nation  do  profess  arms  as  their 
principal    honor,    study,    and    occupation ;    for    tlie 

1  The  laws  and  ordinances  promulgated  by  the  sovereigns  of 
Spain  were  so  called.  The  term  was  derived  from  the  Byzantine 
empire. 


190  ESSAYS. 

things  which  we  formerly  have  spoken  of  are  but 
habilitations ^  towards  arms;  and  what  is  habilita- 
tion  without  intention  and  act  ?  Romulus,  after  his 
death  (as  they  report  or  feign),  sent  a  present  to 
the  Romans,  that,  above  all,  they  should  intend^ 
arms,  and  then  they  should  prove  the  greatest  em- 
pire of  the  world.  The  fabric  of  the  state  of  Sparta 
was  wholly  (though  not  wisely)  framed  and  com- 
posed to  that  scope  and  end ;  the  Persians  and 
Macedonians  had  it  for  a  flash  ;^  the  Gauls,  Ger- 
mans, Goths,  Saxons,  Normans,  and  others,  had  it 
for  a  time ;  the  Turks  have  it  at  this  day,  though  in 
great  declination.  Of  Christian  Europe,  they  that 
have  it  are  in  effect  only  the  Spaniards  ;  but  it  is  so 
plain,  that  every  man  profiteth  in  that  he  most 
intendeth,  that  it  needeth  not  to  be  stood  upon.  It 
is  enough  to  point  at  it,  that  no  nation  which  doth 
not  directly  profess  arms,  may  look  to  have  great- 
ness fall  into  their  mouths ;  and,  on  the  other  side, 
it  is  a  most  certain  oracle  of  time,  that  those  states 
that  continue  long  in  that  profession  (as  the  Romans 
and  Turks  principally  have  done),  do  wonders ;  and 
those  that  have  professed  arms  but  for  an  age  have, 
notwithstanding,  commonly  attained  that  greatness 
in  that  age  which  maintained  them  long  after,  when 
their  profession  and  exercise  of  arms  had  grown  to 
decay. 

Incident  to  this  point  is,  for  a  state  to  have  those 

>  Qualifications.  *  Attend  to. 

*  For  a  short  or  transitory  period. 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES.  191 

laws  or  customs  which  may  reach  forth  unto  them 
just  occasions  (as  may  be  pretended)  of  war ;  for 
there  is  that  justice  imprinted  in  the  nature  of  men, 
that  they  enter  not  upon  wars  (whereof  so  many 
calamities  do  ensue),  but  upon  some,  at  the  least 
specious  grounds  and  quarrels.  The  Turk  hath  at 
hand,  for  cause  of  war,  the  propagation  of  his  law 
or  sect,  a  quarrel  that  he  may  always  command. 
The  Romans,  though  they  esteemed  the  extending 
the  limits  of  their  empire  to  be  great  honor  to 
their  generals  when  it  was  done,  yet  they  never 
rested  upon  that  alone  to  begin  a  war.  Firsi;, 
therefore,  let  nations  that  pretend  to  greatness  have 
this,  that  they  be  sensible  of  wrongs,  either  upon 
borderers,  merchants,  or  politic  ministers;  and  that 
they  sit  not  too  long  upon  a  provocation :  secondly, 
let  them  be  pressed,^  and  ready  to  give  aids  and 
succors  to  their  confederates,  as  it  ever  was  with 
the  Romans ;  insomuch,  as  if  the  confederate  had 
leagues  defensive  with  divers  other  states,  and,  upon 
invasion  offered,  did  implore  their  aids  severally, 
yet  the  Romans  would  ever  be  the  foremost,  and 
leave  it  to  none  other  to  have  the  honor.  As  for 
the  wars,  which  were  anciently  made  on  the  behalf 
of  a  kind  of  party,  or  tacit  conformity  of  estate,  I 
do  not  see  how  they  may  be  well  justified :  as  when 
the  Romans  made  a  war  for  the  liberty  of  Grsecia; 
or,  when  the  Lacedsemonians  and  Athenians  made 
wars  to  set  up  or  pull  down  democracies  and  oligar- 

^  Be  in  a  hurry. 


192  ESSAYS. 

chies  ;  or  when  wars  were  made  by  foreigners,  under 
the  pretence  of  justice  or  protection,  to  deliver  the 
subjects  of  othera  from  tyranny  and  oppression,  and 
the  like.  Let  it  suffice,  that  no  estate  expect  to  be 
great,  that  is  not  awake  upon  any  just  occasion  of 
arming. 

Nobody  can  be  healthful  without  exercise,  neither 
natural  body  nor  politic;  and,  certainly,  to  a  king- 
dom, or  estate,  a  just  and  honorable  war  is  the  true 
exercise.  A  civil  war,  indeed,  is  like  the  heat  of  a 
fever;  but  a  foreign  war  is  like  the  heat  of  exer- 
cise, and  serveth  to  keep  the  body  in  health ;  for, 
in  a  slothful  peace,  both  courages  will  effeminate 
and  manners  corrupt.  But,  howsoever  it  be  for 
happiness,  without  all  question  for  greatness,  it 
maketh  to  be  still,  for  the  most  part,  in  arras  ;  and 
the  strength  of  a  veteran  army  (though  it  be  a 
chargeable  business)  always  on  foot,  is  that  which 
commonly  giveth  the  law,  or,  at  least,  the  reputation 
amongst  all  neighbor  states,  as  may  well  be  seen  in 
Spain,^  which  hath  had,  in  one  part  or  other,  a 
veteran  army,  almost  continually,  now  by  the  space 
of  sixscore  years. 

To  be  master  of  the  sea  is  an  abridgment  of  a 
monarchy.  Cicero,  writing  to  Atticus,  of  Pompey's 
preparation  against  Caesar,  saith,  "Consilium  Pom- 
peii plane  Themistocleum  est ;  putat  enim,  qui  mari 

1  It  was  its  immense  armaments  that  in  a  great  measure  con- 
sumed the  vitals  of  Spain. 


OF  KINGDOMS  AND  ESTATES.  193 

potitur,  eum  rerum  potiri ;  ^  and,  without  doubt, 
Pompey  had  tired  out  Caesar,  if  upon  vain  confi- 
dence he  had  not  left  that  way.  We  see  the  great 
effects  of  battles  by  sea.  The  battle  of  Actium 
decided  the  empire  of  the  world :  the  battle  of  Le- 
panto  arrested  the  greatness  of  the  Turk.  There 
be  many  examples  where  sea-fights  have  been  final 
to  the  war  ;  but  this  is  when  princes,  or  states,  have 
set  up  their  rest  upon  the  battles.  But  thus  much 
is  certain,  that  he  that  commands  the  sea  is  at  great 
liberty,  and  may  take  as  much  and  as  little  of  the 
war  as  he  will ;  whereas,  those  that  be  strongest  by 
land  are  many  times,  nevertheless,  in  great  straits. 
Surely,  at  this  day,  with  us  of  Europe,  the  vantage 
of  strength  at  sea  (which  is  one  of  the  principal 
dowries  of  this  kingdom  of  Great  Britain)  is  great ; 
both  because  most  of  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  are 
not  merely  inland,  but  girt  with  the  sea  most  part 
of  their  compass  ;  and  because  the  wealth  of  both 
Indies  seems,  in  great  part,  but  an  accessary  to  the 
command  of  the  seas. 

The  wars  of  latter  ages  seem  to  be  made  in  the 
dark,  in  respect  of  the  glory  and  honor  which  re- 
flected upon  men  from  the  wars  in  ancient  time. 
There  be  now,  for  martial  encouragement,  some  de- 
grees and  orders  of  chivalry,  which,  nevertheless, 
are   conferred   promiscuously   upon   soldiers  and  no 

1  "Pompey's  plan  is  clearly  that  of  Themistocles  ;  for  he  be- 
lieves that  whoever  is  master  of  the  sea  will  obtain  the  supreme 
power,"  —  Ad  Att.  x.  8. 

13 


194  ESSAYS. 

soldiers ;  and  some  remembrance,  perhaps,  upon  the 
escutcheon,  and  some  hospitals  for  maimed  soldiers, 
and  such  like  things  ;  but  in  ancient  times,  the  tro- 
phies erected  upon  the  place  of  the  victory ;  the 
funeral  laudatives,^  and  monuments  for  those  that 
died  in  the  wars ;  the  crowns  and  garlands  per- 
sonal; the  style  of  emperor  which  the  great  kings 
of  the  world  after  borrowed  ;  the  triumphs  of  the 
generals  upon  their  return ;  the  great  donatives  and 
largesses  upon  the  disbanding  of  the  armies ;  were 
things  able  to  inflame  all  men's  courages.  But,  above 
all,  that  of  the  triumph  amongst  the  Romans  was 
not  pageants  or  gaudery,  but  one  of  the  wisest  and 
noblest  institutions  that  ever  was ;  for  it  contained 
three  things  :  honor  to  the  general,  riches  to  the 
treasury  out  of  the  spoils,  and  donatives  to  the  army. 
But  that  honor,  perhaps,  were  not  fit  for  monarchies, 
except  it  be  in  the  person  of  the  monarch  himself, 
or  his  sons ;  as  it  came  to  pass  in  the  times  of  the 
Roman  emperors,  who  did  impropriate  the  actual 
triumphs  to  themselves  and  their  sons,  for  such  wars 
as  they  did  achieve  in  person,  and  left  only  for  wars 
achieved  by  subjects,  some  triumphal  garments  and 
ensigns  to  the  general. 

To  conclude.  No  man  can  by  care-taking  (as  the 
Scripture  saith)  "  add  a  cubit  to  his  stature,"  ^ 
in  this  little  model  of  a  man's  body ;  but  in  the 
great  frame  of  kingdoms  and  commonwealths,  it  is 

*  Encomiums. 

2  St.  Matthew  vi.  27;  St.  Luke  xii.  25. 


OF  REGIMEN  OF   HEALTH.  195 

in  the  power  of  princes,  or  estates,  to  add  amplitude 
and  greatness  to  their  kingdom ;  for,  by  introducing 
such  ordinances,  constitutions,  and  customs,  as  we 
have  now  touched,  they  may  sow  greatness  to  their 
posterity  and  succession :  but  these  things  are  com- 
monly not  observed,  but  left  to  take  their  chance. 


XXX.  — OF  REGIMEN  OF  HEALTH. 

There  is  a  wisdom  in  this  beyond  the  rules  of 
physic.  A  man's  own  observation,  what  he  finds 
good  of,  and  what  he  finds  hurt  of,  is  the  best  physic 
to  preserve  health ;  but  it  is  a  safer  conclusion  to 
say,  "This  agreeth  not  well  with  me,  therefore  I 
will  not  continue  it ; "  than  this,  "  I  find  no  offence 
of  this,  therefore  I  may  use  it;"  for  strength  of 
nature  in  youth  passeth  over  many  excesses  which 
are  owing  ^  a  man  till  his  age.  Discern  of  the  com- 
ing on  of  years,  and  think  not  to  do  the  same  things 
still ;  for  age  will  not  be  defied.  Beware  of  sudden 
change  in  any  great  point  of  diet,  and,  if  necessity 
enforce  it,  fit  the  rest  to  it ;  for  it  is  a  secret  both  in 
nature  and  state,  that  it  is  safer  to  change  many 
things  than  one.  Examine  thy  customs  of  diet, 
sleep,  exercise,  apparel,  and  the  like  ;  and  try,  in  any 
thing  thou  shalt  judge  hurtful,  to  discontinue  it  by 
little  and  little;   but  so,  as  if  thou  dost  find  any 

^  The  effects  of  which  must  be  felt  in  old  age. 


196  ESSAYS. 

inconvenience  by  the  change,  thou  come  back  to  it 
again ;  for  it  is  hard  to  distinguish  that  which  is 
generally  held  good  and  wholesome,  from  that  which 
is  good  particularly,*  and  fit  for  thine  own  body.  To 
be  free-minded  and  cheerfully  disposed  at  hours  of 
meat,  and  of  sleep,  and  of  exercise,  is  one  of  the 
best  precepts  of  long  lasting.  As  for  the  passions 
and  studies  of  the  mind,  avoid  envy,  anxious  fears, 
anger  fretting  inwards,  subtle  and  knotty  inquisi- 
tions, joys,  and  exhilarations  in  excess,  sadness  not 
communicated.  Entertain  hopes,  mirth  rather  than 
joy,  variety  of  delights,  rather  than  surfeit  of  them  ; 
wonder  and  admiration,  and  therefore  novelties; 
studies  that  fill  the  mind  with  splendid  and  illustri- 
ous objects,  as  histories,  fables,  and  contemplations 
of  nature.  If  you  fly  physic  in  health  altogether,  it 
will  be  too  strange  for  your  body  when  you  shall 
need  it;  if  you  make  it  too  familiar,  it  will  work  no 
extraordinary  effect  when  sickness  cometh.  I  com- 
mend rather  some  diet,  for  certain  seasons,  than 
frequent  use  of  physic,  except  it  be  grown  into  a 
custom ;  for  those  diets  alter  the  body  more,  and 
trouble  it  less.  Despise  no  new  accident^  in  your 
body,  but  ask  opinion*  of  it.  In  sickness,  respect 
health  principally  ;  and  in  health,  action  ;  for  those 
that  put  their  bodies  to  endure  in  health,  may,  in 
most  sicknesses  which  are  not  very  sharp,  be  cured 

1  Of  benefit  in  your  individual  case. 

2  Any  striking  change  in  the  constitution. 
'  Take  medical  advice. 


OF  SUSPICION.  197 

only  with  diet  and  tendering.  Celsus  could  never 
have  spoken  it  as  a  physician,  had  he  not  been  a 
wise  man  withal,  when  he  giveth  it  for  one  of  the 
great  precepts  of  health  and  lasting,  that  a  man  do 
vary  and  interchange  contraries,  but  with  an  inclina- 
tion to  the  more  benign  extreme.  Use  fasting  and 
full  eating,  but  rather  full  eating ;  ^  watching  and 
sleep,  but  rather  sleep;  sitting  and  exercise,  but 
rather  exercise,  and  the  like ;  so  shall  nature  be 
cherished,  and  yet  taught  masteries.^  Physicians  are 
some  of  them  so  pleasing  and  conformable  to  the 
humor  of  the  patient,  as  they  press  not  the  true  cure 
of  the  disease ;  and  some  other  are  so  regular  in 
proceeding  according  to  art  for  the  disease,  as  they 
respect  not  sufficiently  the  condition  of  the  patient. 
Take  one  of  a  middle  temper;  or,  if  it  may  not  be 
found  in  one  man,  combine  two  of  either  sort  ;  and 
forget  not  to  call  as  well  the  best  acquainted  with 
your  body,  as  the  best  reputed  of  for  his  faculty. 


XXXI.  — OF  SUSPICION. 

Suspicions  amongst  thoughts  are  like  bats  amongst 
birds,  they  ever  fly  by  twilight.  Certainly  they  are 
to  be  repressed,  or  at  the  least  well  guarded;  for 
they  cloud   the  mind,  they  lose  friends,  and  they 

1  Incline  rather  to  fully  satisfjang  your  hunger. 
^  Celsus  de  Med.  i.  1. 


198  ESSAYS. 

check  with  business,  whereby  business  cannot  go 
on  currently  and  constantly.  They  dispose  kings  to 
tyranny,  husbands  to  jealousy,  wise  men  to  irresolu- 
tion and  melancholy.  They  are  defects,  not  in  the 
heart  but  in  the  brain ;  for  they  take  place  in  the 
stoutest  natures,  as  in  the  example  of  Henry  the 
Seventh  of  England.  There  was  not  a  more  suspi- 
cious man,  nor  a  more  stout,  and  in  such  a  composi- 
tion they  do  small  hurt ;  for  commonly  they  are  not 
admitted,  but  with  examination,  whether  they  be 
likely  or  no ;  but  in  fearful  natures  they  gain  ground 
too  fast.  There  is  nothing  makes  a  man  suspect 
much,  more  than  to  know  little  ;  and,  therefore,  men 
should  remedy  suspicion  by  procuring  to  know  more, 
and  not  to  keep  their  suspicions  in  smother.  What 
would  men  have  ?  Do  they  think  those  they  employ 
and  deal  with  are  saints  ?  Do  they  not  think  they 
will  have  their  own  ends,  and  be  truer  to  themselves 
than  to  them  ?  Therefore,  there  is  no  better  way  to 
moderate  suspicions,  than  to  account  upon  such  sus- 
picions as  true,  and  yet  to  bridle  them  as  false  :  ^  for 
so  far  a  man  ought  to  make  use  of  suspicions  as  to 
provide,  as  if  that  should  be  true  that  he  suspects, 
yet  it  may  do  him  no  hurt.  Suspicions  that  the  mind 
of  itself  gathers  are  but  buzzes ;  but  suspicions  that 
are  artificially  nourished,  and  put  into  men's  heads 
by  the  tales  and  whisperings  of  others,  have  stings. 
Certainly,  the  best  mean,  to  clear  the  way  in  this 
same  wood  of  suspicions,  is  frankly  to  communicate 

1  To  hope  the  best,  but  be  fully  prepared  for  the  worst 


OF  DISCOUESE.  199 

them  with  the  party  that  he  suspects :  for  thereby  he 
shall  be  sure  to  know  more  of  the  truth  of  them  than 
he  did  before ;  and,  withal,  shall  make  that  party 
more  circumspect,  not  to  give  further  cause  of  sus» 
picion.  But  tliis  would  not  be  done  to  men  of  base 
natures ;  for  they,  if  they  find  themselves  once  sus- 
pected, wUl  never  be  true.  The  Italian  says,  "  Sos- 
petto  licentia  fede ; "  ^  as  if  suspicion  did  give  a 
passport  to  faith ;  but  it  ought  rather  to  kindle  it  to 
discharge  itself. 


^XXXII.  — OF  DISCOURSE. 

Some  in  their  discourse  desire  rather  commenda- 
tion of  wit,  in  being  able  to  hold  all  arguments,^  than 
of  judgment,  in  discerning  what  is  true ;  as  if  it  were 
a  praise  to  know  what  might  be  said  and  not  what 
should  be  thought.  Some  have  certain  common- 
places and  themes,  wherein  they  are  good,  and  want 
variety ;  which  kind  of  poverty  is  for  the  most  part 
tedious,  and,  when  it  is  once  perceived,  ridiculous. 
The  honorablest  part  of  talk  is  to  give  the  occasion,^ 
and  again  to  moderate  and  pass  to  somewhat  else ; 
for  then  a  man  leads  the  dance.  It  is  good  in  dis- 
course,  and   speech   of    conversation,   to  vary   and 

1  "  Suspicion  is  the  passport  to  faith." 

2  A  censure  of  this  nature  has  been  applied  by  some  to  Dr. 
Johnson,  and  possibly  with  some  reason. 

*  To  start  the  subject. 


200  ESSAYS. 

intermingle  speech  of  the  present  occasion  with 
arguments,  tales  with  reasons,  asking  of  questions 
with  telling  of  opinions,  and  jest  with  earnest ;  for  it 
is  a  dull  thing  to  tire,  and,  as  we  say  now,  to  jade 
any  thing  too  far.  As  for  jest,  there  be  certain 
things  which  ought  to  be  privileged  from  it ;  namely, 
religion,  matters  of  state,  great  persons,  any  man's 
present  business  of  importance,  and  any  case  that 
deserveth  pity ;  yet  there  be  some  that  think  their 
wits  have  been  asleep,  except  they  dart  out  some- 
what that  is  piquant,  and  to  the  quick ;  that  is  a 
vein  which  would  be  bridled :  ^  — 

•'  Parce,  puer,  stimulis,  et  fortius  utere  loris."  ^ 

And,  generally,  men  ought  to  find  the  difference 
between  saltness  and  bitterness.  Certainly,  he  that 
hath  a  satirical  vein,  as  he  maketh  others  afraid  of 
his  wit,  so  he  had  need  be  afraid  of  others'  memory. 
He  that  questioneth  much,  shall  learn  much,  and 
content  much,  but  especially  if  he  apply  his  ques- 
tions to  the  skill  of  the  persons  whom  he  asketh : 
for  he  shall  give  them  occasion  to  please  themselves 
in  speaking,  and  himself  shall  continually  gather 
knowledge ;  but  let  his  questions  not  be  troublesome, 
for  that  is  fit  for  a  poser.^  And  let  him  be  sure  to 
leave  other  men  their  turns  to  speak ;  nay,  if  there 
be  any  that  would  reign  and  take  up  all  the  time, 

^  Requires  to  be  bridled. 

2  He   quotes  here  from  Ovid  :     "  Boy,   spare  the  whip,   and 
tightly  grasp  the  reins."  —  Met.  ii.  127. 
'  One  who  tests  or  examines. 


OP  DISCOURSE.  201 

let  him  find  means  to  take  them  ofi",  and  to  bring 
others  on,  as  musicians  used  to  do  with  those  tiiat 
dance  too  long  gaUiards.^  If  you  dissemble  some- 
times your  knowledge  of  that  you  are  thought  to 
know,  you  shall  be  thought,  another  time,  to  know 
that  you  know  not.  Speech  of  a  man's  self  ought 
to  be  seldom,  and  well  chosen.  I  knew  one  was 
wont  to  say  in  scorn,  "  He  must  needs  be  a  wise 
man,  he  speaks  so  much  of  himself ; "  and  there  is 
but  one  case  wherein  a  man  may  commend  himself 
with  good  grace,  and  that  is  in  commending  virtue 
in  another,  especially  if  it  be  such  a  virtue  whereunto 
himself  pretendeth.  Speech  of  touch  ^  towards  others 
should  be  sparingly  used ;  for  discourse  ought  to  be 
as  a  field,  without  coming  home  to  any  man.  I 
knew  two  noblemen,  of  the  west  part  of  England, 
whereof  the  one  was  given  to  scoff",  but  kept  ever 
royal  cheer  in  his  house ;  the  other  would  ask  of 
those  that  had  been  at  the  other's  table,  "  Tell  truly, 
was  there  never  a  flout  ^  or  dry  blow  *  given  ?  "  To 
which  the  guest  would  answer,  "  Such  and  such  a 
thing  passed."  The  lord  would  say,  "  I  thought  he 
would  mar  a  good  dinner."  Discretion  of  speech  is 
more  than  eloquence ;  and  to  speak  agreeably  to 
him  with  whom  we  deal,  is  more  than  to  speak  in 

^  The  galliard  was  a  light  active  dance,  much  la  fashion  in  the 
time  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

2  Hits  at,  or  remarks  intended  to  be  applied  to,  particular 
individuals. 

8  A  slight  or  insult. 

*  A  sarcastic  remark. 


202  ESSAYS. 

good  words,  or  in  good  order.  A  good  continued 
speech,  without  a  good  speech  of  interlocution,  shows 
slowness  ;  and  a  good  reply,  or  second  speech,  with- 
out a  good  settled  speech,  showeth  shallowness  and 
weakness.  As  we  see  in  beasts,  that  those  that  are 
weakest  in  the  course,  are  yet  nimblest  in  the  turn  ; 
as  it  is  betwixt  the  greyhound  and  the  hare.  To  use 
too  many  circumstances,  ere  one  come  to  the  matter, 
is  wearisome  ;  to  use  none  at  all,  is  blunt. 


XXXIII.  — OF  PLANTATIONS.* 

Plantations  are  amongst  ancient,  primitive,  and 
heroical  works.  When  the  world  was  young,  it 
begat  more  children;  but  now  it  is  old,  it  begets 
fewer ;  for  I  may  justly  account  new  plantations  to 
be  the  children  of  former  kingdoms.  I  like  a  plan- 
tation in  a  pure  soil ;  that  is,  where  people  are  not 
displanted,^  to  the  end  to  plant  in  others ;  for  else 
it  is  rather  an  extirpation  than  a  plantation.  Plant- 
ing of  countries  is  like  planting  of  woods ;  for  you 
must  make  account  to  lose  almost  twenty  years' 
profit,  and  expect  your  recompense  in  the  end  ;  for 
the  principal  thing  that  hath  been  the  destruction 

1  The  old  term  for  colonies. 

2  He  perhaps  alludes  covertly  to  the  conduct  of  the  Spanianis 
in  extirpating  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  the  West  India  Islands, 
against  which  the  venerable  Las  Casaa  so  eloquently  but  vainly 
proteste<l. 


OF  PLANTATIONS.  203 

of  most  plantations,  hath  been  the  base  and  hasty 
drawing  of  profit  in  the  first  years.  It  is  true, 
speedy  profit  is  not  to  be  neglected,  as  far  as  may 
stand  with  the  good  of  the  plantation,  but  no  further. 
It  is  a  shameful  and  unblessed  thing  ^  to  take  the 
scum  of  people  and  wicked  condemned  men,  to  be 
the  people  with  whom  you  plant ;  and  not  only  so, 
but  it  spoileth  the  plantation  ;  for  they  will  ever  live 
like  rogues,  and  not  fall  to  work  ;  but  be  lazy,  and 
do  mischief,  and  spend  victuals,  and  be  quickly 
weary,  and  then  certify  over  to  their  country  to  the 
discredit  of  the  plantation.  The  people  wherewith 
you  plant  ought  to  be  gardeners,  ploughmen,  labor- 
ers, smiths,  carpenters,  joiners,  fishermen,  fowlers, 
with  some  few  apothecaries,  surgeons,  cooks,  and 
bakers.  In  a  country  of  plantations,  first  look  about 
what  kind  of  victual  the  country  yields  of  itself  to 
hand ;  as  chestnuts,  walnuts,  pine-apples,  olives, 
dates,  plums,  cherries,  wild  honey,  and  the  like, 
and  make  use  of  them.  Then  consider  what  victual, 
or  esculent  things  there  are,  which  grow  speedily, 
and  within  the  year ;  as  parsnips,  carrots,  turnips, 
onions,  radish,  artichokes  of  Jerusalem,  maize,  and 
the  like.  For  wheat,  barley,  and  oats,  they  ask  too 
much  labor ;  but  with  pease  and  beans  you  may 
begin,  both  because  they  ask  less  labor,  and  because 
tliey  serve  for  meat  as  well  as  for  bread ;  and  of 

1  Of  course,  this  censure  would  not  apply  to  what  is  primarily 
and  essentially  a  convict  colony  ;  the  object  of  which  is  to  drain 
the  mother  country  of  its  impure  superfluities. 


204  ESSAYS. 

rice,  Kkewise,  coraeth  a  great  increase,  and  it  is  a 
kind  of  meat.  Above  all,  there  ought  to  be  brought 
store  of  biscuit,  oatmeal,  flour,  meal,  and  the  like,  in 
the  beginning,  till  bread  may  be  had.  For  beasts, 
or  birds,  take  chiefly  such  as  are  least  subject  to 
diseases,  and  multiply  fastest ;  as  swine,  goats,  cocks, 
hens,  turkeys,  geese,  house-doves,  and  the  like.  The 
victual  in  plantations  ought  to  be  expended  almost 
as  in  a  besieged  town,  that  is,  with  certain  allowance  ; 
and  let  the  main  part  of  the  ground  employed  to  gar- 
dens or  com,  be  to  a  common  stock ;  and  to  be  laid 
in,  and  stored  up,  and  then  delivered  out  in  propor- 
tion ;  besides  some  spots  of  ground  that  any  par- 
ticular person  will  manure  for  his  own  private  use. 
Consider,  likewise,  what  commodities  the  soil  where 
the  plantation  is  doth  naturally  yield,  that  they  may 
some  way  help  to  defray  the  charge  of  the  plantar 
tion ;  so  it  be  not,  as  was  said,  to  the  untimely 
prejudice  of  the  main  business,  as  it  hath  fared  with 
tobacco  in  Virginia.^  Wood  commonly  aboundcth 
but  too  much  ;  and  therefore  timber  is  fit  to  be  one. 
If  there  be  iron  ore,  and  streams  whereupon  to  set 
the  mills,  iron  is  a  brave  commodity  where  wood 
aboundcth.  Making  of  bay-salt,  if  the  climate  be 
proper  for  it,  would  be  put  in  experience ;  grow- 
ing silk,  likewise,  if  any  be,  is  a  likely  commodity  ; 
pitch  and  tar,  where  store  of  firs  and  pines  are,  will 

1  Times  have  much  changed  since  this  was  penned,  tobacco  is 
now  the  staple  commodity,  and  the  source  of  "  the  main  business" 
of  Virginia. 


OF  PLANTATIONS.  205 

not  fail ;  so  drugs  and  sweet  woods,  where  they  are, 
cannot  but  yield  great  profit ;  soap-ashes,  likewise, 
and  other  things  that  may  be  thought  of ;  but  moil  ^ 
not  too  much  under  ground,  for  the  hope  of  mines 
is  very  uncertain,  and  useth  to  make  the  planters 
lazy  in  other  things.  For  government,  let  it  be  in 
the  hands  of  one,  assisted  with  some  counsel ;  and 
let  them  have  commission  to  exercise  martial  laws, 
with  some  limitation ;  and,  above  all,  let  men  make 
that  profit  of  being  in  the  wilderness,  as  they  have 
God  always,  and  his  service,  before  their  eyes.  Let 
not  the  government  of  the  plantation  depend  upon 
too  many  counsellors  and  undertakers  in  the  country 
that  planteth,  but  upon  a  temperate  number ;  and 
let  those  be  rather  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  than 
merchants,  for  they  look  ever  to  the  present  gain. 
Let  there  be  freedoms  from  custom,  till  the  planta- 
tion be  of  strength ;  and  not  only  freedom  from 
custom,  but  freedom  to  carry  their  commodities 
where  they  may  make  their  best  of  them,  except 
there  be  some  special  cause  of  caution.  Cram  not 
in  people,  by  sending  too  fast  company  after  com- 
pany; but  rather  hearken  how  they  waste,  and 
send  supplies  proportionably ;  but  so  as  the  num- 
ber may  live  well  in  the  plantation,  and  not  by 
surcharge  be  in  penury.  It  hath  been  a  gi'eat  en- 
dangering to  the  health  of  some  plantations,  that 
thay  have  built  along  the  sea  and  rivers,  in  marish  ^ 

^  To  labor  hard. 

2  Marshy  ;  from  the  French  marais,  a  marsh. 


206  ESSAYS. 

and  unwholesome  grounds;  therefore,  though  you 
begin  there,  to  avoid  carriage  and  other  like  dis- 
commodities, yet  build  still  rather  upwards  from 
the  streams  than  along.  It  concerneth,  likewise, 
the  health  of  the  plantation,  that  they  have  good 
store  of  salt  with  them,  that  they  may  use  it  in  their 
victuals  when  it  shall  be  necessary.  If  you  plant 
where  savages  are,  do  not  only  entertain  them  with 
trifles  and  gingles,^  but  use  them  justly  and  gra- 
ciously, with  sufficient  guard,  nevertheless;  and  do 
not  win  their  favor  by  helping  them  to  invade  their 
enemies,  but  for  their  defence  it  is  not  amiss ;  and 
send  oft  of  them  over  to  the  country  that  plants, 
that  they  may  see  a  better  condition  than  their  own, 
and  commend  it  when  they  return.  When  the 
plantation  grows  to  strength,  then  it  is  time  to  plant 
with  women  as  well  as  with  men  ;  that  the  planta- 
tion may  spread  into  generations,  and  not  be  ever 
pieced  from  without.  It  is  the  sinfullest  thing  in 
the  world,  to  forsake  or  destitute  a  plantation  once 
in  forwardness ;  for,  besides  the  dishonor,  it  is  the 
guiltiness  of  blood  of  many  comraiserable  persons. 

*  Gewgaws,  or  spangles. 


OF  RICHES.  207 


XXXIV.  — OF   RICHES. 

I  CANNOT  call  riches  better  than  the  baggage  of 
vartue ;  the  Roman  word  is  better,  "  impedimenta ;  " 
for  as  the  baggage  is  to  an  army,  so  is  riches  to  virtue ; 
it  cannot  be  spared  nor  left  behind,  but  it  hindereth 
the  march ;  yea,  and  the  care  of  it  sometimes  loseth 
or  disturbeth  the  victory.  Of  great  riches  there  is 
no  real  use,  except  it  be  in  the  distribution ;  the  rest 
is  but  conceit.  So  saith  Solomon  :  "  Where  much  is, 
there  are  many  to  consume  it ;  and  what  hath  the 
owner,  but  the  sight  of  it  with  his  eyes?"^  The 
personal  fruition  in  any  man  cannot  reach  to  feel 
great  riches :  there  is  a  custody  of  them,  or  a  power 
of  dole  and  donative  of  them,  or  a  fame  of  them,  but 
no  solid  use  to  the  owner.  Do  you  not  see  what 
feigned  prices  are  set  upon  little  stones  and  rarities  ? 
and  what  works  of  ostentation  are  undertaken,  be- 
cause there  might  seem  to  be  some  use  of  great 
riches  ?  But  then  you  will  say,  they  may  be  of  use 
to  buy  men  out  of  dangers  or  troubles ;  as  Solomon 
saith  :  "  Riches  are  as  a  strong-hold  in  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  rich  man ; "  ^  but  this  is  excellently  ex- 

^  He  alludes  to  Ecclesiastes  v.  11,  the  words  of  which  are  some- 
what varied  in  our  version :  ' '  When  goods  increase,  they  are  in- 
creased that  eat  them  ;  and  what  good  is  there  to  the  owners  thereof, 
saving  the  beholding  of  them  with  their  eyes  ? " 

*  "The  rich  man's  wealth  is  his  strong  city."  —  Proverbs  x.  15  ; 
iviii.  11. 


208  ESSAYS. 

pressed,  that  it  is  in  imagination,  and  not  always  in 
fact ;  for,  certainly,  great  riches  have  sold  more  men 
than  they  have  bought  out.  Seek  not  proud  riches, 
but  such  as  thou  mayest  get  justly,  use  soberly,  dis- 
tribute cheerfully,  and  leave  contentedly;  yet  have 
no  abstract  nor  friarly  contempt  of  them,  but  distin- 
guish, as  Cicero  saith  well  of  Rabirius  Posthunius : 
"  In  studio  rei  amplificandse  apparebat,  non  ava- 
ritise  praedam,  sed  instrumentum  bonitati  quaeri. "  ^ 
Hearken  also  to  Solomon,  and  beware  of  hasty 
gathering  of  riches :  "  Qui  festinat  ad  di\itias,  non 
erit  insons."^  The  poets  feign,  that  when  Plutus 
(which  is  riches)  is  sent  from  Jupiter,  he  limps, 
and  goes  slowly ;  but  when  he  is  sent  from  Pluto, 
he  runs,  and  is  swift  of  foot;  meaning,  that  riches 
gotten  by  good  means  and  just  labor  pace  slowly ; 
but  when  they  come  by  the  death  of  others^  (as  by 
the  course  of  inheritance,  testaments,  and  the  like), 
they  come  tumbling  upon  a  man.  But  it  might  be 
applied  likewise  to  Pluto,  taking  him  for  the  devil ; 
for  when  riches  come  from  the  devil  (as  by  fraud 
and  oppression,  and  unjust  means),  they  come  upon 
speed.     The  ways  to  enrich  are  many,  and  most  of 

1  "  In  his  anxiety  to  increase  his  fortune,  it  was  evident  that 
not  the  gratification  of  avarice  was  sought,  but  the  meauc  of  doing 
good." 

2  "  He  who  hastens  to  riches  will  not  be  without  guilt."  In 
our  version  the  words  are:  "He  that  maketh  haste  to  be  rich 
shall  not  be  innocent."  —  Proverbs  xxviii.  22, 

8  Pluto  being  the  king  of  the  infernal  regions,  or  place  of  de- 
parted spirits. 


OF  RICHES.  209 

them  foul :  parsimony  is  one  of  the  best,  and  yet 
is  not  innocent ;  for  it  withholdeth  men  from  works 
of  liberality  and  charity.  The  improvement  of  the 
ground  is  the  most  natural  obtaining  of  riches ;  for 
it  is  our  great  mother's  blessing,  the  earth's,  but  it 
is  slow;  and  yet,  where  men  of  great  wealth  do 
stoop  to  husbandry,  it  multiplieth  riches  exceed- 
ingly. I  knew  a  nobleman,  in  England,  that  had 
tlie  greatest  audits  ^  of  any  man  in  my  time,  a  great 
grazier,  a  great  sheep-master,  a  great  timber-man, 
a  great  collier,  a  great  corn-master,  a  great  lead- 
man,  and  so  of  iron,  and  a  number  of  the  like 
points  of  husbandry ;  so  as  the  earth  seemed  a  sea 
to  him  in  respect  of  the  perpetual  importation.  It 
was  truly  observed  by  one,  "That  himself  came 
very  hardly  to  a  little  riches,  and  very  easily  to 
great  riches ; "  for  when  a  man's  stock  is  come  to 
that,  that  he  can  expect  the  prime  of  markets,^  and 
overcome  those  bargains,  which  for  their  greatness 
are  few  men's  money,  and  be  partner  in  the  indus- 
tries of  younger  men,  he  cannot  but  increase  mainly. 
The  gains  of  ordinary  trades  and  vocations  are 
honest,  and  furthered  by  two  things,  chiefly:  by 
diligence,  and  by  a  good  name  for  good  and  fair 
dealing;  but  the  gains  of  bargains  are  of  a  more 
doubtful  nature,  when  men  shall  wait  upon  others' 
necessity :  broke  by  servants  and  instruments  to 
draw  them  on ;  put  off  others  cunningly  that  would 

1  Reut-roll,  or  account  taken  of  income. 
*  Wait  till  prices  have  risen. 

14 


210  ESSAYS. 

be  better  chapmen;  and  the  like  practices,  which 
are  crafty  and  naught.  As  for  the  chopping  of 
bargains,  when  a  man  buys  not  to  hold,  but  to  sell 
over  again,  that  commonly  grindeth  double,  both 
upon  the  seller  and  upon  the  buyer.  Sharings  do 
greatly  enrich,  if  the  hands  be  well  chosen  that  are 
trusted.  Usury  is  the  certainest  means  of  gain, 
though  one  of  the  worst;  as  that  whereby  a  man 
doth  eat  his  bread,  "  in  sudore  vultiis  alieni ;  "  ^ 
and,  besides,  doth  plough  upon  Sundays;  but  yet 
certain  though  it  be,  it  hath  flaws,  for  that  the  scriv- 
eners and  brokers  do  value  unsound  men  to  serve 
their  own  turn.  The  fortune,  in  being  the  first  in 
an  invention,  or  in  a  privilege,  doth  cause  some- 
times a  wonderful  overgrowth  in  riches,  as  it  was 
with  the  first  sugar-man ^  in  the  Canaries;  there- 
fore, if  a  man  can  play  the  true  logician,  to  have  as 
well  judgment  as  invention,  he  may  do  great  mat- 
ters, especially  if  the  times  be  fit.  He  that  resteth 
upon  gains  certain,  shall  hardly  grow  to  great  riches ; 
and  he  that  puts  all  upon  adventures,  doth  often- 
times break  and  come  to  poverty ;  it  is  good,  there- 
fore, to  guard  adventures  with  certainties  that  may 
uphold  losses.  Monopolies,  and  coemption  of  wares 
for  resale,  where  they  are  not  restrained,  are  great 
means  to  enrich ;  especially  if  the  party  have  intel- 
ligence what  things  are  like  to  come  into  request, 

^  "In  the  sweat  of  auother's  brow."     He  alludes  to  the  words 
of  Genesis  iii.  19  :  "In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread." 
*  Planter  of  sugar-canes. 


OF  RICHES.  211 

and  so  store  himself  beforehand.  Riches  gotten  by 
service,  though  it  be  of  the  best  rise,  yet  when  they 
are  gotten  by  flattery,  feeding  humors,  and  other 
servile  conditions,  they  may  be  placed  amongst  the 
worst.  As  for  fishing  for  testaments  and  execu- 
torships (as  Tacitus  saith  of  Seneca,  '*  Testamenta 
et  orbos  tanquam  indagine  capi"),^  it  is  yet  worse, 
by  how  much  men  submit  themselves  to  meaner 
persons  than  in  service.  Believe  not  much  them 
that  seem  to  despise  riches,  for  they  despise  them 
that  despair  of  them;  and  none  worse  when  they 
come  to  them.  Be  not  penny-wise ;  riches  have 
wings,  and  sometimes  they  fly  away  of  themselves, 
sometimes  they  must  be  set  flying  to  bring  in  more. 
Men  leave  their  riches  either  to  their  kindred,  or 
to  the  public  ;  and  moderate  portions  prosper  best 
in  both.  A  great  state  left  to  an  heir,  is  as  a  lure 
to  all  the  birds  of  prey  round  about  to  seize  on  him, 
if  he  be  not  the  better  stablished  in  years  and  judg- 
ment ;  likewise,  glorious  gifts  and  foundations  are 
like  sacrifices  v^ithout  salt,  and  but  the  painted 
sepulchres  of  alms,  which  soon  will  putrefy  and  cor- 
rupt inwardly.  Therefore,  measure  not  thine  ad- 
vancements by  quantity,  but  frame  them  by  measure, 
and  defer  not  charities  till  death ;  for,  certainly, 
if  a  man  weigh  it  rightly,  he  that  doth  so  is  rather 
liberal  of  another  man's  than  of  his  own. 

•  "  Wills  and  childless  persons  were  caught  by  him,  as  though 
with  a  hunting-net."  —  Tacit.  Ann.  xiii.  42. 


212  ESSAYS. 


XXXV.  — OF  PROPHECIES. 

I  MEAN  not  to  speak  of  divine  prophecies,  nor  of 
heathen  oracles,  nor  of  natural  predictions ;  but  only 
of  prophecies  that  have  been  of  certain  memory,  and 
from  hidden  causes.  Saith  the  Pythonissa^  to  Saul, 
"To-morrow  thou  and  thy  sons  shall  be  with  me." 
Virgil  hath  these  verses  from  Homer:  — 

"Hie  domus  vEnese  cunctis  dominabitur  oris, 
Et  nati  natorum,  et  qui  nascentur  ab  illis."* 

A  prophecy,   as   it  seems,   of  the  Roman  empire. 
Seneca  the  tragedian  hath  these  verses:  — 

"  Venient  annis 
Sajcula  sens,  quibus  Oceanus 
Vincula  rerum  laxet,  et  ingens 
Pateat  Tellus,  Tiphysque  novos 
Detegat  orl>es  ;  nee  sit  terns 
Ultima  Thule."  8 

A   prophecy  of    the   discovery   of   America.      The 

1  "  Pythoness,"  used  in  the  sense  of  witch.  He  alludes  to  the 
witch  of  Endor,  and  the  words  in  Samuel  xxviii.  19.  He  is,  how- 
ever, mistaken  in  attributing  these  words  to  the  witch  :  it  was  the 
spirit  of  Samuel  that  said,  "To-morrow  shalt  thou  and  thy  sons 
be  with  me." 

2  "But  the  house  of  ^Eneas  shall  reign  over  every  shore,  both 
his  children's  children,  and  those  who  shall  spring  from  them."  — 
^n.  iii.  97. 

'  "  After  the  lapse  of  years,  ages  will  come  in  which  Ocean 
shall  relax  his  chains  around  the  world,  and  a  va.st  continent  sliall 
appear,  and  Tiphys  shall  explore  new  regions,  and  Thule  shall  be 
1^0  longer  the  utmost  verge  of  earth."  —  Sen.  Med.  ii.  375. 


OF  PROPHECIES.  213 

daughter  of  Polycrates  ^  dreamed  that  Jupiter  bathed 
her  father,  and  Apollo  anointed  him ;  and  it  came  to 
pass  that  he  was  crucified  in  an  open  place,  where 
the  sun  made  his  body  run  with  sweat,  and  the  rain 
washed  it.  Philip  of  Macedon  dreamed  he  sealed 
up  his  wife's  belly,  whereby  he  did  expound  it, 
that  his  wife  should  be  barren ;  but  Aristander  the 
soothsayer  told  him  his  wife  was  with  child,  because 
men  do  not  use  to  seal  vessels  that  are  empty.^  A 
phantasm  that  appeared  to  M.  Brutus  in  his  tent, 
said  to  him,  "  Philippis  iterum  me  videbis."^  Tibe- 
rius said  to  Galba,  "Tu  quoque,  Galba,  degustabis 
imperium."  *  In  Vespasian's  time,  there  went  a 
prophecy  in  the  East,  that  those  that  should  come 
forth  of  Judea,  should  reign  over  the  world;  which, 
though  it  may  be  was  meant  of  our  Saviour,  yet  Ta- 
citus expounds  it  of  Vespasian.^  Domitian  dreamed, 
the  night  before  he  was  slain,  that  a  golden  head 
was  growing  out  of  the  nape  of  his  neck;^  and, 
indeed,  the  succession  that  followed  him,  for  many 
years,  made  golden  times.     Henry  the  Sixth  of  Eng- 

^  He  was  king  of  Samos,  and  was  treacherously  put  to  death  by 
OrcEtes,  the  governor  of  Magnesia,  in  Asia  Minor.  His  daughter, 
in  consequence  of  her  dream,  attempted  to  dissuade  him  from 
visiting  Oroetes,  but  in  vain.  —  Herod,  iii.  124. 

»  Plat.  Vit.  Alex.  2. 

'  "Thou  shalt  see  me  again  at  Philippi."  —  Appian  Bell.  Civ. 
iv.  134. 

♦  "  Thou,  also,  Galba,  shalt  taste  of  empire."  —  Sitet.  Fii. 
Gall.  4. 

«  Hist.  V.  13. 

«  Suet.  vit.  Domit.  23. 


214  ESSAYS. 

land  said  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  when  he  was  a  lad, 
and  gave  him  water,  "  This  is  the  lad  that  shall  enjoy 
the  crown  for  which  we  strive."  When  I  was  in 
France,  I  heard  from  one  Dr.  Pena,  that  the  queen 
mother,^  who  was  given  to  curious  arts,  caused  the 
king  her  husband's  nativity  to  be  calculated  under  a 
false  name;  and  the  astrologer  gave  a  judgment, 
that  he  should  be  killed  in  a  duel;  at  which  the 
queen  laughed,  thinking  her  husband  to  be  above 
challenges  and  duels ;  but  he  was  slain  upon  a  course 
at  tilt,  the  splinters  of  the  staflp  of  Montgomery 
going  in  at  his  beaver.  The  trivial  prophecy  which 
I  heard  when  I  was  a  child,  and  Queen  Elizabeth 
was  in  the  flower  of  her  years,  was, 

*'  When  henipe  is  spunne, 
England 's  done  ;  " 

whereby  it  was  generally  conceived,  that  after  the 
princes  had  reigned  which  had  the  principal  letters 
of  that  word  hempe  (which  were  Henry,  Edward, 
Mary,  Philip,  and  Elizabeth),  England  should  come 
to  utter  confusion  ;  which,  thanks  be  to  God,  is  veri- 
fied only  in  the  change  of  the  name ;  for  that  the 
king's  style  is  now  no  more  of  England,  but  of 
Britain.^  There  was  also  another  prophecy  before 
the  year  of  eighty-eight,  which  I  do  not  well  under- 
stand. 

•  Catherine  de  Medicis,  the  wife  of  Henry  II.  of  France,  who 
died  from  a  wound  accidentally  received  in  a  touniament. 
3  James  I.  being  the  fiist  monarch  of  Great  Britain. 


OP  PROPHECIES.  215 

"There  shall  be  seen  upon  a  day. 
Between  the  Baugh  and  the  May, 
The  black  fleet  of  Norway. 
When  that  that  is  come  and  gone, 
England  build  houses  of  lime  and  stone, 
For  after  wars  you  shall  have  none." 

It  was  generally  conceived  to  be  meant  of  the  Span- 
ish fleet  that  came  in  eighty-eight ;  for  that  the  king 
of  Spain's  surname,  as  they  say,  is  Norway.  The 
prediction  of  Regiomontanus, 

"  Octogesimus  octavus  mirabilis  annus,"  ^ 

was  thought  likewise  accomplished  in  the  sending 
of  that  great  fleet,  being  the  greatest  in  strength, 
though  not  in  number,  of  all  that  ever  swam  upon 
the  sea.  As  for  Cleon's  dream,^  I  think  it  was  a 
jest ;  it  was,  that  he  was  devoured  of  a  long  dragon ; 
and  it  was  expounded  of  a  maker  of  sausages,  that 
troubled  him   exceedingly.     There   are  numbers   of 

^  "The  eighty-eighth  will  be  a  wondrous  year." 
^  "  Aristophanes,  in  his  Comedy  of  the  Knights,  satirizes  Cleon, 
the  Athenian  demagogue.  He  introduces  a  declaration  of  the 
oracle,  that  the  Eagle  of  hides  (by  whom  Cleon  was  meant,  his 
f^ither  having  been  a  tanner),  should  be  conquered  by  a  serpent, 
which  Demosthenes,  one  of  the  characters  in  the  play,  expounds 
as  meaning  a  maker  of  sausages.  How  Lord  Bacon  could  for  a 
moment  doubt  that  this  was  a  mere  jest,  it  is  difficult  to  conjec- 
ture. The  followiug  is  a  literal  translation  of  a  portion  of  the 
passage  from  The  Knights  {1.  197)  :  "But  when  a  leather  eagle 
with  crooked  talons  shall  have  seized  with  its  jaws  a  serpent,  a 
stupid  creature,  a  drinker  of  blood,  then  the  tan-pickle  of  the 
Paphlagonians  is  destroyed  ;  but  upon  the  sellers  of  sausages 
the  deity  bestows  great  glory,  unless  they  choose  rather  to  sell 
sausages." 


216  ESSAYS. 

the  like  kind,  especially  if  you  include  dreams,  and 
predictions  of  astrology ;  but  I  have  set  down  these 
few  only  of  certain  credit,  for  example.  My  judg- 
ment is,  that  they  ought  all  to  be  despised,  and  ought 
to  serve  but  for  winter  talk  by  the  fireside  ;  though, 
when  I  say  despised,  I  mean  it  as  for  belief;  for 
otherwise,  the  spreading  or  publishing  of  them  is  in 
no  sort  to  be  despised,  for  they  have  done  much 
mischief;  and  I  see  many  severe  laws  made  to 
suppress  them.  That  that  hath  given  them  grace, 
and  some  credit,  consisteth  in  three  things.  First, 
that  men  mark  when  they  hit,  and  never  mark 
when  they  miss;^  as  they  do,  generally,  also  of 
dreamy.  The  second  is,  that  probable  conjectures, 
or  obscure  traditions,  many  times  turn  themselves 
into  prophecies;  while  the  nature  of  man,  which 
coveteth  divination,  thinks  it  no  peril  to  foretell 
that  which  indeed  they  do  but  collect,  as  that  of 
Seneca's  verse  ;  for  so  much  was  then  subject  to 
demonstration,  that  the  globe  of  the  earth  had  great 
parts  beyond  the  Atlantic,  which  might  be  probably 
conceived  not  to  be  all  sea ;  and  adding  thereto  the 
tradition  in  Plato's  Timgeus,  and  his  Atlanticus,^  it 

1  This  is  a  very  just  remark.  So-called  strange  coincidences, 
and  wonderful  dreams  that  are  veiified,  when  the  point  is  con- 
sidered, are  really  not  at  all  marvellous.  We  never  hear  of  the 
999  dreams  that  are  not  verified,  but  the  thousandth  that  hap- 
pens to  precede  its  fulfilment  is  blazoned  by  unthinking  people 
as  a  marvel.  It  would  be  a  much  more  wonderful  thing  if  dreams 
were  not  occasionally  verified. 

*  Under  this  name  he  alludes  to  the  Critias  of  Plato,  in  which 
an  imaginary  "terra  incognita"  is  discoursed  of  under  the  name 


OF  AMBITION.  217 

might  encourage  one  to  turn  it  to  a  prediction. 
The  third  and  last  (which  is  the  great  one),  is,  that 
almost  all  of  them,  being  infinite  in  number,  have 
been  impostures,  and,  by  idle  and  crafty  brains, 
merely  contrived  and  feigned,  after  the  event  past. 


^XXXVL  — OF  AMBITION. 

Ambition  is  like  choler,  which  is  a  humor  that 
maketh  men  active,  earnest,  full  of  alacrity,  and 
stirring,  if  it  be  not  stopped ;  but  if  it  be  stopped, 
and  cannot  have  its  way,  it  becometh  adust,^  and 
thereby  malign  and  venomous.  So  ambitious  men, 
if  they  find  the  way  open  for  their  rising,  and  still 
get  forward,  they  are  rather  busy  than  dangerous ; 
but  if  they  be  checked  in  their  desires,  they  be- 
come secretly  discontent,  and  look  upon  men  and 
matters  with  an  evil  eye,  and  are  best  pleased 
when  things  go  backward ;  which  is  the  worst  prop- 
erty in  a  servant  of  a  prince  or  state.  Therefore, 
it  is  good  for  princes,  if  they  use  ambitious  men,  to 
handle  it  so,  as  they  be  still  progressive,  and  not 
retrograde ;  which,  because  it  cannot  be  without 
Inconvenience,  it  is  good  not  to  use  such  natures 

of  the  "New  Atlantis."     It  has  been  conjectured  from  this  by 
Bome,  that  Plato  really  did  believe  in  the  existence  of  a  continent 
on  the  other  side  of  the  globe. 
^  Hot  and  fiery. 


218  ESSAYS. 

at  all ;  for  if  they  rise  not  with  their  service,  they 
will  take  order  to  make  their  service  fall  with  them. 
But  since  we  have  said,  it  were  good  not  to  use  men 
of  ambitious  natures,  except  it  be  upon  necessity,  it 
is  fit  we  speak  in  what  cases  they  are  of  necessity. 
Good  commanders  in  the  wars  must  be  taken,  be 
they  never  so  ambitious ;  for  the  use  of  their  ser- 
vice dispenseth  with  the  rest ;  and  to  take  a  soldier 
without  ambition,  is  to  pull  off  his  spurs.  There 
is  also  great  use  of  ambitious  men  in  being  screens 
to  princes  in  matters  of  danger  and  envy;  for  no 
man  will  take  that  part,  except  he  be  like  a  seeled  ^ 
dove,  that  mounts  and  mounts,  because  he  cannot 
see  about  him.  There  is  use,  also,  of  ambitious 
men,  in  pulling  down  the  greatness  of  any  subject 
that  overtops;  as  Tiberius  used  Macro ^  in  the 
pulling  down  of  Sejanus.  Since,  therefore,  they 
must  be  used  in  such  cases,  there  resteth  to  speak 
how  they  are  to  be  bridled,  that  they  may  be  less 
dangerous.  There  is  less  danger  of  them  if  they 
be  of  mean  birth,  than  if  they  be  noble ;  and  if 
they  be  rather  harsh  of  nature,  than  gracious  and 
popular;  and  if  they  be  rather  new  raised,  than 
grown  cunning  and  fortified  in  their  greatness.  It 
is  counted  by  some  a  weakness  in  princes  to  have 
favorites ;   but  it  is,  of  all  others,  the  best  remedy 

1  With  the  eyes  closed  or  blindfolded. 

^  He  was  a  favorite  of  Tiberius,  to  whose  murder  by  Nero  he 
was  said  to  have  been  an  accessar}'.  He  afterwards  prostituted  his 
own  wife  to  Caligula,  by  whom  he  was  eventually  put  to  death. 


OF  AMBITION.  219 

against  ambitious  great  ones ;  for  when  the  way  of 
pleasuring  and  displeasuring  lieth  by  the  favorite, 
it  is  impossible  any  other  should  be  over-great. 
Another  means  to  curb  them,  is,  to  balance  them  by 
others  as  proud  as  they;  but  then  there  must  be 
some  middle  counsellors,  to  keep  things  steady,  for 
without  that  ballast,  the  ship  will  roll  too  much. 
At  the  least,  a  prince  may  animate  and  inure  some 
meaner  persons  to  be,  as  it  were,  scourges  to  ambi- 
tious men.  As  for  tlie  having  of  them  obnoxious 
to  ^  ruin,  if  they  be  of  fearful  natures,  it  may  do 
well ;  but  if  they  be  stout  and  daring,  it  may  pre- 
cipitate their  designs,  and  prove  dangerous.  As  for 
the  pulling  of  them  down,  if  the  affairs  require  it, 
and  that  it  may  not  be  done  with  safety  suddenly, 
the  only  way  is,  the  interchange  continually  of 
favors  and  disgraces,  whereby  they  may  not  know 
what  to  expect,  and  be,  as  it  were,  in  a  wood.  Of 
ambitions,  it  is  less  harmful  the  ambition  to  prevail 
in  great  things,  than  that  other  to  appear  in  every 
thing ;  for  that  breeds  confusion,  and  mars  busi- 
ness ;  but  yet,  it  is  less  danger  to  have  an  ambitious 
man  stimng  in  business,  than  great  in  dependen- 
cies. He  that  seeketh  to  be  eminent  amongst  able 
men,  hath  a  great  task,  but  that  is  ever  good  for 
the  public ;  but  he  that  plots  to  be  the  only  figure 
amongst  ciphers,  is  the  decay  of  a  whole  age. 
Honor  hath  three  things  in  it :  the  vantage-ground 
to  do  good;   the  approach  to   kings   and  principal 

^  Liable  to. 


220  ESSAYS. 

persons;  and  the  raising  of  a  man's  own  fortunes. 
He  that  hath  the  best  of  these  intentions,  when  he 
aspireth,  is  an  honest  man;  and  that  prince  that 
can  discern  of  these  intentions  in  another  that  as- 
pireth, is  a  wise  prince.  Generally,  let  princes  and 
states  choose  such  ministers  as  are  more  sensible  of 
duty  than  of  rising,  and  such  as  love  business  rather 
upon  conscience  than  upon  bravery;  and  let  them 
discern  a  busy  nature  from  a  willing  mind. 


^XXXVIL  — OF  MASQUES  AND  TRIUMPHS. 

These  things  are  but  toys  to  come  amongst  such 
serious  observations;  but  yet,  since  princes  will 
have  such  things,  it  is  better  they  should  be  graced 
with  elegancy,  than  daubed  with  cost.  Dancing  to 
song  is  a  thing  of  great  state  and  pleasure.  I  un- 
derstand it  that  the  song  be  in  choir,  placed  aloft, 
and  accompanied  with  some  broken  music,  and  the 
ditty  fitted  to  the  device.  Acting  in  song,  especially 
in  dialogues,  hath  an  extreme  good  grace ;  I  say 
acting,  not  dancing  (for  that  is  a  mean  and  vulgar 
thing) ;  and  the  voices  of  the  dialogue  would  be 
strong  and  manly  (a  base  and  a  tenor,  no  treble), 
and  the  ditty  high  and  tragical,  not  nice  or  dainty. 
Several  choirs,  placed  one  over  against  another,  and 
taking  the  voices  by  catches  anthem-wise,  give  great 
pleasure.      Turning  dances  into  figure  is  a  childish 


OF  MASQUES  AND  TRIUMPHS.  221 

curiosity ;  and,  generally,  let  it  be  noted,  that  those 
things  which  I  here  set  down  are  such  as  do  natu- 
rally take  the  sense,  and  not  respect  petty  wonder- 
ments.    It  is  true,  the  alterations  of  scenes,  so  it  be 
quietly  and  without  noise,  are  things  of  great  beauty 
and   pleasure:   for   they   feed   and    relieve   the   eye 
before  it  be  full  of  the  same  object.     Let  the  scenes 
abound  with  light,   specially   colored    and   varied ; 
and  let  the  masquers,  or  any  other  that  are  to  come 
down  from  the  scene,  have  some  motions  upon  the 
scene  itself  before  their  coming  down  ;  for  it  draws 
the  eye  strangely,  and  makes  it  with  great  pleasure 
to  desire  to  see  that  it  cannot  perfectly  discern.     Let  \ 
the  songs  be  loud  and  cheerful,  and  not  chirpings/ 
or  pulings ;  ^  let  the  music,  likewise,  be   sharp  and 
loud,  and  well  placed.     The  colors  that  show  best  \ 
by  candlelight,  are  white,  carnation,  and  a  kind  of/ 
sear-water  green;    and  ouches,^  or  spangs,^  as  they 
are  of  no  great  cost,  so  they  are  of  most  glory.     As 
for  rich  embroidery,  it  is  lost   and  not  discerned. 
Let  the  suits  of  the  masquers  be  graceful,  and  such  \ 
as  become  the  person  when  the  vizors  are  off;  not/ 
after   examples    of  known   attires,   Turks,   soldiers, 
mariners,  and  the  like.      Let  anti-masques*  not  be 

^  Chirpings  like  the  noise  of  young  birds. 

2  Jewels  or  necklaces. 

8  Spangles,  or  O's  of  gold  or  silver.  Beckmann  says  tflat  these 
were  invented  in  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century.  See 
Beckiuann's  Hist,  of  Inventions  (Bohn's  Stand.  Lib.),  vol.  L 
p.  424. 

*  Or  antic-masques.      These  were  ridiculous  interludes  dividing 


222  ESSAYS. 

long;  they  have  been  commonly  of  fools,  satyrs, 
baboons,  wild  men,  antics,  beasts,  sprites,  witches, 
Ethiopes,  pigmies,  turquets,^  nymphs,  rustics,  Cu- 
pids, statues  moving,  and  the  like.  As  for  angels, 
it  is  not  comical  enough  to  put  them  in  anti-masques ; 
and  any  thing  that  is  hideous,  as  devils,  giants,  is, 
on  the  other  side,  as  unfit ;  but,  chiefly,  let  the  mu- 
sic of  them  be  recreative,  and  with  some  strange 
changes.  Some  sweet  odors  suddenly  coming  forth, 
without  any  drops  falling,  are,  in  such  a  company 
as  there  is  steam  and  heat,  things  of  great  pleasure 
and  refreshment.  Double  masques,  one  of  men, 
another  of  ladies,  addeth  state  and  variety ;  but  all 
is  nothing,  except  the  room  be  kept  clear  and  neat. 

For  justs,  and  tourneys,  and  barriers,  the  glories 
of  them  are  chiefly  in  the  chariots,  wherein  the  chal- 
lengers make  their  entry  ;  especially  if  they  be  drawn 
with  strange  beasts,  as  lions,  bears,  camels,  and  the 
like ;  or  in  the  devices  of  their  entrance,  or  in  the 
bravery  of  their  liveries,  or  in  the  goodly  furniture  of 
their  horses  and  armor.     But  enough  of  these  toys. 

the  acts  of  the  more  serious  masque.  These  were  performed  by 
hired  actors,  while  the  masque  was  played  by  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen. The  rule  was,  the  cliaracters  were  to  be  neither  serious 
nor  hideous.  The  "Comus"  of  Milton  is  an  admirable  specimen 
of  a  masque. 
1  Turks. 


OF  NATURE  IN  MEN.  223 


XXXVIIL  — OF  NATURE  IN  MEN. 

Nature  is  often  hidden,  sometimes  overcome,  sel- 
dom extinguished.  Force  maketh  nature  more  vio- 
lent in  the  return;  doctrine  and  discourse  maketh 
nature  less  importune,  but  custom  only  doth  alter 
and  subdue  nature.  He  that  seeketh  victory  over 
his  nature,  let  him  not  set  himself  too  great  nor  too 
small  tasks ;  for  the  first  will  make  him  dejected  by 
often  failings,  and  the  second  will  make  him  a  small 
proceeder,  though  by  often  prevailings.  And  at  the 
first,  let  him  practise  with  helps,  as  swimmers  do 
with  bladders,  or  rushes ;  but,  after  a  time,  let  him 
practise  with  disadvantages,  as  dancers  do  with  thick 
shoes ;  for  it  breeds  great  perfection,  if  the  practice 
be  harder  than  the  use.  Where  nature  is  mighty, 
and  therefore  the  victory  hard,  the  degrees  had  need 
be,  first,  to  stay  and  arrest  nature  in  time ;  like  to 
him  that  would  say  over  the  four  and  twenty  letters 
when  he  was  angry ;  then  to  go  less  in  quantity  :  as 
if  one  should,  in  forbearing  wine,  come  from  drinking 
healths  to  a  draught  at  a  meal ;  and,  lastly,  to  dis- 
continue altogether ;  but  if  a  man  have  the  fortitude 
and  resolution  to  enfi'anchise  himself  at  once,  that  is 
the  best : — 

"  Optimus  ille  animi  vindex  Isedentia  pectus 
Vincula  qui  rapit,  dedoluitque  semel."  i 

^  "  He  is  the  best  asserter  of  the  liberty  of  his  mind,  who  bursts 
the  chains  that  gall  his  breast,  and  at  the  same  moment  ceases  to 
grieve."  — This  quotation  is  from  OvicCs  Remedy  of  Love,  293. 


224  ESSAYS. 

Neither  is  the  ancient  rule  amiss,  to  bend  nature  as 
a  wand  to  a  contrary  extreme,  whereby  to  set  it 
right ;  understanding  it  where  the  contrary  extreme 
is  no  >ace.  Let  not  a  man  force  a  habit  upon  him- 
self with  a  perpetual  continuance,  but  with  some 
intermission,  for  both  the  pause  reinforceth  the  new 
onset ;  and  if  a  man  that  is  not  perfect  be  ever  in 
practice,  he  shall  as  well  practise  his  errors  as  his 
abilities,  and  induce  one  habit  of  both  ;  and  there  is 
no  means  to  help  this  but  by  seasonable  intermis- 
sions. But  let  not  a  man  trust  his  victory  over  his 
nature  too  far ;  for  nature  will  lie  buried  a  great 
time,  and  yet  revive  upon  the  occasion  or  tempta- 
tion ;  like  as  it  was  with  JEsop's  damsel,  turned 
from  a  cat  to  a  woman,  who  sat  very  demurely  at  the 
board's  end  till  a  mouse  ran  before  her.  Therefore, 
let  a  man  either  avoid  the  occasion  altogether,  or  put 
himself  often  to  it,  that  he  may  be  little  moved  with 
it.  A  man's  nature  is  best  perceived  in  privateness, 
for  there  is  no  affectation ;  in  passion,  for  that  put- 
teth  a  man  out  of  his  precepts  ;  and  in  a  new  case 
or  experiment,  for  there  custom  leaveth  him.  They 
are  happy  men  whose  natures  sort  with  their  voca- 
tions; otherwise  they  may  say,  "Multum  incola  fuit 
anima  mea,"  ^  when  they  converse  in  those  things 
they  do  not  affect.  In  studies,  whatsoever  a  man 
commandeth  upon  himself,  let  him  set  hours  for  it : 
but  whatsoever  is  agreeable  to  his  nature,  let  him 
take  no  care  for  any  set  times ;  for  his  thoughts  will 

1  "  My  soul  has  long  been  a  sojourner." 


OF  CUSTOM  AND  EDUCATION.  225 

flj  to  it  of  themselves,  so  as  the  spaces  of  other  busi- 
ness or  studies  will  suffice.  A  man's  nature  runs 
either  to  herbs  or  weeds  ;  therefore,  let  him  seasona- 
bly water  the  one,  and  destroy  the  other. 


XXXIX.— OF  CUSTOM  AND  EDUCATION. 

Mex's  thoughts  are  much  according  to  their  incli- 
nation ;  ^  their  discourse  and  speeches  according  to 
their  learning  and  infused  opinions  ;  but  their  deeds 
are,  after,  as  they  have  been  accustomed  ;  and,  there- 
fore, as  Machiavel  well  noteth  (though  in  an  evil- 
favored  instance),  there  is  no  trusting  to  the  force  of 
nature,  nor  to  the  bravery  of  words,  except  it  be  cor- 
roborate by  custom.^  His  instance  is,  that,  for  the 
achieving  of  a  desperate  conspiracy,  a  man  should 
not  rest  upon  the  fierceness  of  any  man's  nature,  or 
his  resolute  undertakings,  but  take  such  a  one  as 
hath  had  his  hands  formerly  in  blood ;  but  Machiavel 
knew  not  of  a  Friar  Clement,^  nor  a  Ravaillac,*  nor  a 

1  "The  wish  is  father  to  the  thought,"  is  a  proverbial  saying 
of  similar  meaning. 

2  Vide  Disc.  Sop.  Liv.  iii.  6. 

"  Jac(jues  Clement,  a  Dominican  friar,  who  assassinated  Henry 
III.  of  France,  in  1589.  The  sombre  faJiatic  was  but  twenty-five 
year  of  age  ;  and  he  had  announced  the  intention  of  killing  with 
his  own  hands  the  great  enemy  of  his  faith.  He  was  instigated  by 
the  Leaguers,  and  particularly  by  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  the 
sister  of  the  Duke  of  Guise. 

*  He  murdered  Henry  IV.  of  France,  in  1610. 
15 


226  ESSAYS. 

Jaureguy,^  nor  a  Baltazar  Gerard ;  ^  yet  his  rule 
holdeth  still,  that  nature,  nor  the  engagement  of 
words,  are  not  so  forcible  as  custom.  Only  super- 
stition is  now  so  well  advanced,  that  men  of  the  first 
blood  are  as  firm  as  butchers  by  occupation  ;  and 
votary  ^  resolution  is  made  equipollent  to  custom, 
even  in  matter  of  blood.  In  other  things,  the  pro- 
dominancy  of  custom  is  everywhere  visible,  insomuch 
as  a  man  would  wonder  to  hear  men  profess,  protest, 
engage,  give  great  words,  and  then  do  just  as  they 
have  done  before,  as  if  they  were  dead  images  and 
engines,  moved  only  by  the  wheels  of  custom.  We 
see,  also,  the  reign  or  tyranny  of  custom,  what  it  is. 
The  Indians  *  (I  mean  the  sect  of  their  wise  men) 
lay  themselves  quietly  upon  a  stack  of  wood,  and  so 
sacrifice  themselves  by  fire ;  nay,  the  wives  strive  to 
be  burned  with  the  corpses  of  their  husbands.  The 
lads  of  Sparta,  of  ancient  time,  were  wont  to  be 
scourged  upon  the  altar  of  Diana,  without  so  much 
as  quecking.^  I  remember,  in  the  beginning  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  time  of  England,  an  Irish  rebel 
condemned,  put  up  a  petition  to  the  deputy  that  he 

^  Philip  II.  of  Spain  having,  in  1582,  set  a  price  upon  the  head 
of  William  of  Nassau,  Prince  of  Orange,  the  leader  of  the  Prot- 
estants, Jauregiiy  attempted  to  assassinate  him,  and  severely 
wounded  him. 

'■'  He  assassinated  William  of  Nassau,  in  1584.  It  is  supposed 
that  this  fanatic  meditated  the  crime  for  six  years. 

*  A  resolution  prompted  by  a  vow  of  devotion  to  a  particular 
principle  or  creed. 

*  He  alludes  to  the  Hindoos,  and  the  ceremony  of  Suttee,  en- 
couraged  by  the  Brahmins. 

*  Flinching. —  Vide  Cic.  Tuscul.  Disp.  ii.  14. 


OF  CUSTOM  AND  EDUCATION.  227 

might  be  hanged  in  a  withe,  and  not  in  a  halter, 
because  it  had  been  so  used  with  former  rebels. 
There  be  monks  in  Russia  for  penance,  that  will  sit 
a  whole  night  in  a  vessel  of  water,  till  they  be 
engaged  with  hard  ice.  Many  examples  may  be  put 
of  the  force  of  custom,  both  upon  mind  and  body  ; 
therefore,  since  custom  is  the  principal  magistrate  of 
man's  life,  let  men,  by  all  means,  endeavor  to  obtain 
good  customs.  Certainly,  custom  is  most  perfect 
when  it  beginneth  in  young  years :  this  we  call  edu- 
cation, which  is,  in  effect,  but  an  early  custom.  So 
we  see,  in  languages,  the  tongue  is  more  pliant  to  all 
expressions  and  sounds,  the  joints  are  more  supple  to 
all  feats  of  activity  and  motions  in  youth,  than  after- 
wards ;  for  it  is  true,  that  late  learners  cannot  so 
well  take  the  ply,  except  it  be  in  some  minds  that 
have  not  suffered  themselves  to  fix,  but  have  kept 
themselves  open  and  prepared  to  receive  continual 
amendment,  which  is  exceeding  rare.  But  if  the 
force  of  custom,  simple  and  separate,  be  great,  the 
force  of  custom,  copulate  and  conjoined  and  colleg- 
iate, is  far  greater ;  for  there  example  teacheth, 
company  comforteth,  emulation  quickeneth,  glory 
raiseth ;  so  as  in  such  places  the  force  of  custom  is 
in  his  exaltation.  Certainly,  the  great  multiplication 
of  virtues  upon  human  nature  resteth  upon  societies 
well  ordained  and  disciplined ;  for  commonwealths 
and  good  governments  do  nourish  virtue  grown,  but 
do  not  much  mend  tho  seeds  ;  but  the  misery  is,  that 
the  most  effectual  means  arc  now  applied  to  the  ends 
least  to  be  desired. 


228  ESSAYS. 


/ 


XL.  — OF  FORTUNE. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  but  outward  accidents  con- 
duce much  to  fortune ;  favor,  opportunity,  death  of 
others,  occasion  fitting  virtue  ;  but,  chiefly,  the  mould 
of  a  man's  fortune  is  in  his  own  hands  :  "  Faber 
quisque  fortunse  suae,"  ^  saith  the  poet ;  and  the  most 
frequent  of  external  causes,  is  that  the  folly  of  one 
man  is  the  fortune  of  another ;  for  no  man  prospers 
so  suddenly  as  by  others'  errors.  "Serpens  nisi 
serpentem  comederit  non  fit  draco."  ^  Overt  and 
apparent  virtues  bring  forth  praise :  but  there  be 
secret  and  hidden  virtues  that  bring  forth  fortune ; 
certain  deliveries  of  a  man's  self,  which  have  no 
name.  The  Spanish  name,  "  disemboltura,"  ^  partly 
expresseth  them,  when  there  be  not  stonds*  nor 
restiveness  in  a  man's  nature,  but  that  the  wheels 

1  "  Every  man  is  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune,"  Sallust, 
in  his  letters  "De  Republica  Ordinandi,"  attributes  these  words 
to  Appius  Claudius  Caecus,  a  Roman  poet  whose  works  are  now 
lost.  Lord  Bacon,  in  the  Latin  translation  of  his  Essays,  which 
was  made  under  his  supervision,  rendered  the  word  "poet" 
"comicus  ;"  by  whom  he  probably  meant  Plautus,  who  has  this 
line  in  his  "Trinummus"  (Act  ii,  so.  2)  :  "Nam  sapiens  quidem 
pol  ipsus  fingit  fortunam  sibi,"  which  has  the  same  meaning, 
though  in  somewhat  different  terms. 

^  "A  serpent,  unless  it  has  devoured  a  serpent,  does  not  become 
a  dragon." 

^  Or  "  desenvoltura,"  implying  readiness  to  adapt  one's  self  to 
circumstances. 

♦  Impediments,  causes  for  hesitation. 


OF  FORTUNE.  229 

of  his  mind  keep  way  with  the  wheels  of  his  for- 
tune; for  so  Livy  (after  he  had  described  Cato 
Major  in  these  words,  "  In  illo  viro,  tantum  robur 
corporis  et  animi  fuit,  ut  quocunque  loco  natus  esset, 
fortunam  sibi  facturus  videretur,")  ^  falleth  upon  that, 
that  he  had  "  versatile  ingenium  :  "  ^  therefore,  if  a 
man  look  sharply  and  attentively,  he  shall  see  For- 
tune ;  for  though  she  be  blind,  yet  she  is  not  in- 
visible. The  way  of  Fortune  is  like  the  milky  way 
in  the  sky ;  which  is  a  meeting,  or  knot,  of  a  number 
of  small  stars,  not  seen  asunder,  but  giving  light 
together ;  so  are  there  a  number  of  little  and  scarce^ 
discerned  virtues,  or  rather  faculties  and  customs, 
that  make  men  fortunate.  The  Italians  note  some^ 
of  them,  such  as  a  man  would  little  think.  When 
they  speak  of  one  that  cannot  do  amiss,  they  will 
throw  in  into  his  other  conditions,  that  he  hath 
"  Poco  di  matto ;  "  ^  and,  certainly,  there  be  not  two 
more  fortunate  properties,  than  to  have  a  little  of 
the  fool,  and  not  too  much  of  the  honest;  there- 
fore, extreme  lovers  of  their  country,  or  masters, 
were  never  fortunate ;  neither  can  they  be,  for  when 
a  man  placeth  his  thoughts  without  himself,  he  goeth 
not  his  own  way.  A  hasty  fortune  maketh  an  enter- 
priser and  remover  (the  French  hath  it  better, 
"  entreprenant,"  or  "  remnant ") ;  but  the  exercised 

*  "In  that  man  there  was  such  great  strength  of  body  and  mind, 
that,  in  whatever  station  he  had  been  born,  he  seemed  as  though 
he  should  make  his  fortune." 

a  "A  versatile  genius."  «  "A  little  of  the  fool." 


230  ESSAYS. 

fortune  maketh  the  able  man.  Fortune  is  to  be 
honored  and  respected,  and  it  be  but  for  her  daugh- 
ters, Confidence  and  Reputation ;  for  those  two  Fe- 
licity breedeth;  the  first  within  a  man's  self,  the 
latter  in  others  towards  him.  All  wise  men,  to 
decline  the  envy  of  their  own  virtues,  use  to  ascribe 
them  to  Providence  and  Fortune;  for  so  they  may 
the  better  assume  them ;  and,  besides,  it  is  great- 
ness in  a  man  to  be  the  care  of  the  higher  powers. 
So  Caesar  said  to  the  pilot  in  the  tempest,  "  Csesarem 
portas,  et  fortunam  ejus."  ^  So  Sylla  chose  the 
name  of  " Felix," ^  and  not  of  "Magnus;"^  and  it 
hath  been  noted,  that  those  who  ascribe  openly  too 
much  to  their  own  wisdom  and  policy,  end  unfortu- 
nate. It  is  written,  that  Timotheus  *  the  Athenian, 
after  he  had,  in  the  account  he  gave  to  the  state  of 
his  government,  often  interlaced  his  speech,  "and 
in  this  Fortune  had  no  part,"  never  prospered  in  any 
thing  he  undertook  afterwards.  Certainly  there  be, 
whose  fortunes  are  like  Homer's  verses,  that  have 
a  slide  ^  and  easiness  more  than  the  verses  of  other 
poets ;  as  Plutarch  saith  of  Timoleon's  fortune  in  re- 
spect of  that  of  Agesilaus  or  Epaminondas ;  and  that 
this  should  be,  no  doubt  it  is  much  in  a  man's  self. 

1  "  Thou  earnest  Caesar  and  his  fortunes."  —  Plul.  Vit.  Ccels.  38. 

2  "  The  Fortunate."     He  attributed  his  success  to  the  inter- 
vention of  Hercules,  to  whom  he  paid  especial  veneration. 

»  "  The  Great."  —  Plut.  Syll.  34. 

*  A  successful  Athenian  general,  the  son  of  Conon,  and  the 
friend  of  Plato. 

*  Fluency,  or  smoothness. 


OF  USURY.  231 


XLL  — OF  USURY.i 

Many  have  made  witty  invectives  against  usury. 
They  say  that  it  is  pity  the  devil  should  have  God's 
part,  which  is  the  tithe ;  that  the  usurer  is  the  great 
est  Sabbath-breaker,  because  his  plough  goeth  every 
Sunday ;  that  the  usurer  is  the  drone  that  Virgil 
speaketh  of :  — 

"  Ignavum  fucos  pecus  a  prsesepibus  arcent  ; "  2 

that  the  usurer  breaketh  the  first  law  that  was  made 
for  mankind  after  the  fall,  which  was,  "in  sudore 
vultiis  tui  comedos  panem  tuum  ; "  ^  not,  "  in  sudore 
vultds  alieni ;  "  *  that  usurers  should  have  orange- 
tawny  ^  bonnets,  because  they  do  Judaize ;  that  it  is 
against  nature  for  money  to  beget  money,  and  the 
like.  I  say  this  only,  that  usury  is  a  "  concessum 
propter  duritiem  cordis ; "  ^  for,  since  there  must  be 
borrowing  and  lending,  and  men  are  so  hard  of 
heart  as  they  will  not  lend  freely,  usury  must  be 

1  Lord  Bacon  seems  to  use  the  word  in  the  general  sense  of 
"landing  money  upon  interest." 

2  "  Drive  from  their  hives  the  drones,  a  lazy  race." — Georgics, 
b.  iv.  168. 

8  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  thy  bread."  —  Gen, 
iii.  19. 

♦  "In  the  sweat  of  the  face  of  another." 

*  In  the  middle  ages  the  Jews  were  compelled,  by  legal  enact- 
ment, to  wear  peculiar  dresses  and  colore  ;  one  of  these  was  orange 

'  "  A  concession  by  reason  of  hardness  of  heart."  He  alludes 
to  the  words  in  St.  Matthew  xix.  8. 


232  ESSAYS. 

permitted.  Some  others  have  made  suspicious  and 
cunning  propositions  of  banks,  discovery  of  men's 
estates,  and  other  inventions ;  but  few  have  spoken 
of  usury  usefully.  It  is  good  to  set  before  us  the 
incommodities  and  commodities  of  usury,  that  the 
good  may  be  either  weighed  out,  or  culled  out ;  and 
warily  to  provide,  that,  while  we  make  forth  to  that 
which  is  better,  we  meet  not  with  that  which  is 
worse. 

The  discommodities  of  usury  are,  first,  that  it 
makes  fewer  merchants;  for  were  it  not  for  this 
lazy  trade  of  usury,  money  would  not  lie  still,  but 
would,  in  great  part,  be  employed  upon  merchan- 
dising, which  is  the  "vena  porta "^  of  wealth  in  a 
state.  The  second,  that  it  makes  poor  merchants  ; 
for  as  a  farmer  cannot  husband  his  ground  so  well 
if  he  sit  at  a  great  rent,  so  the  merchant  cannot 
drive  his  trade  so  well  if  he  sit^  at  great  usury. 
The  third  is  incident  to  the  other  two ;  and  that  is, 
the  decay  of  customs  of  kings,  or  states,  which  ebb 
or  flow  with  merchandising.  The  fourth,  that  it 
bringeth  the  treasure  of  a  realm  or  state  into  a  few 
hands  ;  for  the  usurer  being  at  certainties,  and  others 
at  uncertainties,  at  the  end  of  the  game  most  of  the 
money  will  be  in  the  box  ;  and  ever  a  state  flourish- 
eth  when  wealth  is  more  equally  spread.  The  fifth, 
that  it  beats  down  the  price  of  land ;  for  the  em- 
ployment of  money  is  chiefly  either  merchandising 
or  purchasing,  and  usury  waylays  both.     The  sixth, 

^  See  note  to  Essay  six.  '  Hold. 


OF  USURY.  233 

tiiat  it  doth  dull  and  damp  all  industries,  improve- 
ments, and  new  inventions,  wherein  money  would 
be  stirring,  if  it  were  not  for  this  slug.  The  last, 
that  it  is  the  canker  and  ruin  of  many  men's  estates, 
which,  in  process  of  time,  breeds  a  public  poverty. 
On  the  other  side,  the  commodities  of  usury  are, 
first,  that,  howsoever  usury  in  some  respect  hindereth 
merchandising,  yet  in  some  other  it  advanceth  it; 
for  it  is  certain  that  the  greatest  part  of  trade  is 
driven  by  young  merchants  upon  borrowing  at  in- 
terest ;  so  as  if  the  usurer  either  call  in,  or  keep 
back  his  money,  there  will  ensue  presently  a  great 
stand  of  trade.  The  second  is,  that,  were  it  not  for 
this  easy  borrowing  upon  interest,  men's  necessities 
would  draw  upon  them  a  most  sudden  undoing,  in 
that  they  would  be  forced  to  sell  their  means  (be  it 
lands  or  goods),  far  under  foot ;  and  so,  whereas 
usury  doth  but  gnaw  upon  them,  bad  markets  would 
swallow  them  quite  up.  As  for  mortgaging  or 
pawning,  it  will  little  mend  the  matter;  for  either 
men  will  not  take  pawns  without  use,  or,  if  they  do, 
they  will  look  precisely  for  the  forfeiture.  I  re- 
member a  cruel  moneyed  man  in  the  country,  that 
would  say,  "  The  devil  take  this  usury,  it  keeps  us 
from  forfeitures  of  mortgages  and  bonds."  The 
third  and  last  is,  that  it  is  a  vanity  to  conceive  that 
there  would  be  ordinary  borrowing  without  profit ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  number  of 
inconveniences  that  will  ensue,  if  borrowing  be 
cramped.     Therefore,  to  speak  of  the  abolishing  of 


234  ESSAYS. 

usury  is  idle ;  all  states  have  ever  had  it  in  one  kind 
or  rate,  or  other;  so  as  that  opinion  must  be  sent 
to  Utopia.^ 

To  speak  now  of  the  reformation  and  reglement  ^ 
of  usury,  how  the  discommodities  of  it  may  be  best 
avoided,  and  the  commodities  retained.  It  appears, 
by  the  balance  of  commodities  and  discommodities 
of  usury,  two  things  are  to  be  reconciled ;  the  one, 
that  the  tooth  of  usury  be  grinded,  that  it  bite  not 
too  much  ;  the  other,  that  there  be  left  open  a  means 
to  invite  moneyed  men  to  lend  to  the  merchants, 
for  the  continuing  and  quickening  of  trade.  This 
cannot  be  done,  except  you  introduce  two  several 
sorts  of  usury,  a  less  and  a  greater;  for  if  you 
reduce  usury  to  one  low  rate,  it  will  ease  the  com- 
mon borrower,  but  the  merchant  will  be  to  seek  for 
money;  and  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  trade  of 
merchandise  being  the  most  lucrative,  may  bear 
usury  at  a  good  rate;   other  contracts  not  so. 

To  serve  both  intentions,  the  way  would  be  briefly 
thus :  that  there  be  two  rates  of  usury  ;  the  one 
free  and  general  for  all;  the  other  under  license 
only  to  certain  persons,  and  in  certain  places  of 
merchandising.  First,  therefore,  let  usury  in  gen- 
eral be  reduced  to  five  in  the  hundred,  and  let  that 
rate  be  proclaimed  to  be  free  and  current;  and  let 
the  state  shut  itself  out  to  take  any  penalty  for  the 

1  The  imaginary  country  described  in  Sir  Thomas  More's  politi* 
cal  romance  of  that  name. 

2  Regulation. 


OF  USURY.  235 

same.  This  will  preserve  borrowing  from  any  gen- 
eral stop  or  dpyness ;  this  will  ease  infinite  borrow- 
ers in  the  country ;  this  will,  in  good  part,  raise  the 
price  of  land,  because  land  purchased  at  sixteen 
years'  purchase  will  yield  six  in  the  hundred,  and 
somewhat  more,  whereas  this  rate  of  interest  yields 
but  five.  This,  by  like  reason,  will  encourage  and 
edge  industrious  and  profitable  improvements,  be- 
cause many  will  rather  venture  in  that  kind,  than 
take  five  in  the  hundred,  especially  having  been 
used  to  greater  profit.  Secondly,  let  there  be  cer- 
tain persons  licensed  to  lend  to  known  merchants 
upon  usury,  at  a  higher  rate,  and  let  it  be  with  the 
cautions  following:  Let  the  rate  be,  even  with  the 
merchant  himself,  somewhat  more  easy  than  that  he 
used  formerly  to  pay;  for,  by  that  means,  all  bor- 
rowers shall  have  some  ease  by  this  reformation, 
be  he  merchant,  or  whosoever ;  let  it  be  no  bank  or 
common  stock,  but  every  man  be  master  of  his  own 
money;  not  that  I  altogether  mislike  banks,  but 
they  will  hardly  be  brooked,  in  regard  of  certain 
suspicions.  Let  the  state  be  answered  ^  some  small 
matter  for  the  license,  and  the  rest  left  to  the  lender ; 
for  if  the  abatement  be  but  small,  it  will  no  whit  dis- 
courage the  lender ;  for  he,  for  example,  that  took  be- 
fore ten  or  nine  in  the  hundred,  will  sooner  descend 
to  eight  in  the  hundred,  than  give  over  his  trade  of 
usury,  and  go  from  certain  gains  to  gains  of  hazard. 
Let  these  licensed  lenders  be  in  number  indefinite, 

^  Be  paid. 


236  ESSAYS. 

but  restrained  to  certain  principal  cities  and  towns 
of  merchandising ;  for  then  they  will  be  hardly  able 
to  color  other  men's  moneys  in  the  country,  so  as 
the  license  of  nine  will  not  suck  away  the  current 
rate  of  five ;  for  no  man  will  send  his  moneys  far 
off,  nor  put  them  into  unknown  hands. 

If  it  be  objected,  that  this  doth  in  a  sort  author- 
ize usury,  which  before  was  in  some  places  but 
permissive ;  the  answer  is,  that  it  is  better  to  miti- 
gate usury  by  declaration,  than  to  suffer  it  to  rage 
by  connivance.^ 

1  Our  author  was  one  of  the  earliest  writers  who  treated  the 
question  of  the  interest  of  money  with  the  enlightened  views  of 
a  statesman  and  an  economist.  The  taking  of  interest  was  con- 
sidered, in  his  time,  immoral. 

Laws  on  this  matter  are  extremely  ancient.  Moses  forbids  the 
Jews  to  require  interest  of  each  other.  "Thou  shalt  not  lend 
upon  usury  to  thy  brother ;  usury  of  money,  usury  of  victuals, 
usury  of  any  thing  that  is  lent  upon  usury : 

"Unto  a  stranger  thou  mayest  lend  upon  usury;  but  unto  thy 
brother  thou  shalt  not  lend  upon  usury."  —  Deut.  xxiii.  19,  20. 

Among  the  Greeks,  the  rate  of  interest  was  settled  by  agree- 
ment between  the  borrower  and  the  lender,  without  any  inter- 
ference of  the  law.  The  customary  rate  varied  from  ten  to  thirty- 
three  and  one  third  per  cent. 

The  Romans  enacted  laws  against  usurious  interest ;  but  their 
legal  interest,  admitted  by  the  law  of  the  Twelve  Tables,  was, 
according  to  some,  twelve  per  cent.,  or,  to  others,  one  twelfth  of 
the  capital,  i.  e.  eight  and  one  third  per  cent.  Justinian  reduced 
it  to  six  per  cent. 

In  England,  the  legal  rate  of  interest  was,  in  Henry  the  Eighth's 
reign,  ten  per  cent.  It  was  reduced,  in  1624,  to  eight  per  cent. 
It  was  further  diminished,  in  1672,  to  six  per  cent.  And  defini- 
tively, in  1713,  fixed  at  five  per  (^ent.,  the  ordinary  rate  of  interest 


OF  YOUTH  AND  AGE.  237 


XLIL  — OF  YOUTH  AND  AGE. 

A  MAN  that  is  young  in  years  may  be  old  in 
hours,  if  he  have  lost  no  time ;  but  that  happeneth 
rarely.  Generally,  youth  is  like  the  first  cogitations, 
not  so  wise  as  the  second;  for  there  is  a  youth  in 
thoughts  as  well  as  in  ages ;  and  yet  the  invention 
of  young  men  is  more  lively  than  that  of  old,  and 
imaginations  stream  into  their  minds  better,  and,  as 
it  were,  more  divinely.  Natures  that  have  much 
heat,  and  great  and  violent  desires  and  perturba- 
tions, are  not  ripe  for  action  till  they  have  passed 
the  meridian  of  their  years :  as  it  was  with  Julius 
Caesar  and  Septimius  Severus ;  of  the  latter  of  whom 
it  is  said,  "  Juventutem  egit  erroribus,  imo  furoribus 
plenam ; "  ^  and  yet  he  was  the  ablest  emperor, 
almost,  of  all  the  list ;  but  reposed  natures  may  do 
well  in  youth,  as  it  is  seen  in  Augustus  Csesar, 
Cosmus  Duke  of  Florence,  Gaston  de  Foix/  and 
others.  On  the  other  side,  heat  and  vivacity  in  age 
is  an  excellent  composition  for  business.  Young 
men  are  fitter  to  invent  than  to  judge,  fitter  for 
execution  than  for  counsel,  and  fitter  for  new  pro- 

throughont  Europe.     In  France,  the  rates  of  interest  have  been 
nearly  similar  at  the  same  periods. 

1  "He  passed  his  youth  full  of  errors,  of  madness  even."  — 
Spartian.  Vit.  Scv. 

2  He  was  nephew  of  Louis  the  Twelfth  of  France,  and  com- 
manded the  French  armies  in  Italy  against  the  Spaniards.  After 
a  brilliant  career,  he  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Ravenna,  in  1512. 


238  ESSAYS. 

jects  than  for  settled  business;  for  the  experience 
of  age,  in  things  that  fall  within  the  compass  of  it, 
directeth  them;  but  in  new  things  abuseth  them. 
The  errors  of  young  men  are  the  ruin  of  business ; 
but  the  errors  of  aged  men  amount  but  to  this,  that 
more  might  have  been  done,  or  sooner. 

Young  men,  in  the  conduct  and  manage  of  ac- 
tions, embrace  more  than  they  can  hold,  stir  more 
than  they  can  quiet ;  fly  to  the  end,  without  consid- 
eration of  the  means  and  degrees ;  pursue  some  few 
principles  which  they  have  chanced  upon  absurdly ; 
care  not  to  innovate,  which  draws  unknown  incon- 
veniences ;  use  extreme  remedies  at  first ;  and  that, 
which  doubleth  all  errors,  will  not  acknowledge 
or  retract  them,  like  an  unready  horse,  that  will 
neither  stop  nor  turn.  Men  of  age  object  too  much, 
consult  too  long,  adventure  too  little,  repent  too 
soon,  and  seldom  drive  business  home  to  the  full 
period,  but  content  themselves  with  a  mediocrity  of 
success.  Certainly,  it  is  good  to  compound  employ- 
ments of  both ;  for  that  will  be  good  for  the  pres- 
ent, because  the  virtues  of  either  iige  may  correct 
the  defects  of  both ;  and  good  for  succession,  that 
young  men  may  be  learners,  while  men  in  age  are 
actors ;  and,  lastly,  good  for  cxterne  accidents,  be- 
cause authority  followeth  old  men,  and  favor  and 
popularity  youth ;  but,  for  the  moral  part,  perhaps, 
youth  will  have  the  preeminence,  as  age  hath  for 
the  politic.  A  certain  rabbin,  upon  the  text,  "  Your 
young  men  shall  see  visions,  and  your  old  men  shall 


OF  YOUTH  AND  AGE.  239 

dream  dreams/'^  inferreth  that  young  men  are  ad- 
mitted nearer  to  God  than  old,  because  vision  is  a 
clearer  revelation  than  a  dream;  and,  certainly, 
the  more  a  man  drinketh  of  the  world,  the  more  it 
intoxicateth  ;  and  age  doth  profit  rather  in  the  pow- 
ers of  understanding,  than  in  the  virtues  of  the 
will  and  affections.  There  be  some  have  an  over- 
early  ripeness  in  their  years,  which  fadeth  betimes ; 
these  are,  first,  such  as  have  brittle  wits,  the  edge 
whereof  is  soon  turned ;  such  as  was  Hermogenes  ^ 
the  rhetorician,  whose  books  are  exceedingly  subtle ; 
who  afterwards  waxed  stupid.  A  second  sort  is  of 
those  that  have  some  natural  dispositions,  which 
have  better  grace  in  youth  than  in  age ;  such  as  is 
a  fluent  and  luxuriant  speech,  which  becomes  youth 
well,  but  not  age  ;  so  TuUy  saith  of  Hortensius  : 
"  Idem  manebat,  neque  idem  decebat."  ^  The  third 
is  of  such  as  take  too  high  a  strain  at  the  first,  and 
are  magnanimous  more  than  tract  of  years  can  up- 
hold ;  as  was  Scipio  Africanus,  of  whom  lAvy  saith, 
in  effect,  "  Ultima  primis  cedebant."  * 

1  Joel  ii.  28,  quoted  Acts  ii.  17. 

2  He  lived  in  the  second  century  after  Christ,  and  is  said  to 
have  lost  his  memory  at  the  age  of  twenty-five. 

*  "  He  remained  the  same,  but  vrith  the  advance  of  years  was 
not  so  becoming." — Oic.  Brut.  95. 

*  "The  close  was  unequal  to  the  beginning."  This  quotation 
is  not  correct;  the  words  are:  " Memorabilior  prima  pars  vita 
quam  postrema  fuit," — "The  first  part  of  his  life  was  more  dis- 
tinguished than  the  latter."  —  Livy  xxxviiL  ch.  53. 


240  ESSAYS. 


XLIIL  — OF  BEAUTY. 

Virtue  is  like  a  rich  stone,  best  plain  set;  and 
surely  virtue  is  best  in  a  body  that  is  comely,  though 
not  of  delicate  features,  and  that  hath  rather  dig- 
nity of  presence  than  beauty  of  aspect ;  neither  is  it 
always  most  seen,  that  very  beautiful  persons  are  other- 
wise of  great  virtue ;  as  if  nature  were  rather  busy 
not  to  err,  than  in  labor  to  produce  excellency ;  and 
therefore  they  prove  accomplished,  but  not  of  great 
spirit,  and  study  rather  behavior  than  virtue.  But 
this  holds  not  always;  for  Augustus  Caesar,  Titus 
Vespasianus,  Philip  le  Bel  of  France,  Edward  the 
Fourth  of  England,^  Alcibiades  of  Athens,  Ismael 
the  Sophy  of  Persia,  were  all  high  and  great  spirits, 
and  yet  the  most  beautiful  men  of  their  times.  In 
beauty,  that  of  favor  is  more  than  that  of  color ;  and 
that  of  decent  and  gracious  motion,  more  than  that 
of  favor.2  That  is  the  best  part  of  beauty,  which  a 
picture  cannot  express ;  no,  nor  the  first  sight  of  the 
life.  There  is  no  excellent  beauty  that  hath  not 
some  strangeness  in  the  proportion.  A  man  cannot 
tell  whether  Apelles,  or  Albert  Durer,  were  the  more 
trifler ;  whereof  the  one  would  make  a  personage  by 

1  By  the  context,  he  would  seem  to  consider  "great  spirit" 
and  "  virtue "  as  convertible  terms.  Edward  IV.,  however,  has 
no  claim  to  be  considered  as  a  virtuous  or  magnanimous  man, 
though  he  possessed  great  physical  courage. 

'  Features. 


OF   DEFORMITY.  241 

geometrical  proportions  ;  the  other,  by  taking  the 
best  parts  out  of  divers  faces  to  make  one  excellent. 
Such  personages,  I  think,  would  please  nobody  but 
the  painter  that  made  them  :  not  but  I  think  a 
painter  may  make  a  better  face  than  ever  was ;  but 
he  must  do  it  by  a  kind  of  felicity  (as  a  musician 
that  maketh  an  excellent  air  in  music),  and  not  by 
rule.  A  man  shall  see  faces,  that,  if  you  examine 
them  part  by  part,  you  shall  find  never  a  good,  and 
yet  altogether  do  well.  If  it  be  true  that  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  beauty  is  in  decent  motion,  certainly  it 
is  no  marvel,  though  persons  in  years  seem  many 
times  more  amiable ;  "  Pulchrorum  autumnus  pul- 
cher ; "  ^  for  no  youth  can  be  comely  but  by  pardon,^ 
and  considering  the  youth  as  to  make  up  the  comeli- 
ness. Beauty  is  as  summer  fruits,  which  are  easy 
to  corrupt,  and  cannot  last ;  and,  for  the  most  part, 
it  makes  a  dissolute  youth,  and  an  age  a  little  out  of 
countenance  ;  but  yet  certainly  again,  if  it  light  well, 
it  maketh  virtues  shine,  and  vices  blush. 


XLIV.— OF  DEFORMITY. 

Deformed  pei-sons  are  commonly  even  with  nar- 
ture ;  for,  as  nature  hath  done  ill  by  them,  so  do  they 
by  nature,  being  for  the  most  part  (as  the  Scripture 

1  **  The  autumn  of  the  beautiful  is  beautiful." 
'  By  making  allowances. 

16 


242  ESSAYS. 

saith)  "  void  of  natural  affection ;  "  ^  and  so  tliey 
have  their  revenge  of  nature.  Certainly,  there  is  a 
consent  between  the  body  and  the  mind,  and  where 
nature  erreth  in  the  one,  she  ventureth  in  the  other : 
"  Ubi  peccat  in  uno,  periclitatur  in  altero."  ^  But 
because  there  is  in  man  an  election,  touching  the 
frame  of  his  mind,  and  a  necessity  in  the  frame  of  his 
body,  the  stars  of  natural  inclination  are  sometimes 
obscured  by  the  sun  of  discipline  and  virtue ;  there- 
fore, it  is  good  to  consider  of  deformity,  not  as  a  sign 
which  is  more  deceivable,  but  as  a  cause  which  sel- 
dom faileth  of  the  effect.  Whosoever  hath  any  thing 
fixed  in  his  person  that  doth  induce  contempt,  hath 
also  a  perpetual  spur  in  himself  to  rescue  and  deliver 
himself  from  scorn ;  therefore,  all  deformed  persons 
are  extreme  bold ;  first,  as  in  their  own  defence,  as 
being  exposed  to  scorn,  but,  in  process  of  time,  by  a 
general  habit.  Also,  it  stirreth  in  them  industry, 
and  especially  of  this  kind,  to  watch  and  observe  the 
weakness  of  others,  that  they  may  have  somewhat  to 
repay.  Again,  in  their  superiors,  it  quencheth  jeal- 
ousy towards  them,  as  persons  that  they  think  they 
may  at  pleasure  despise ;  and  it  layeth  their  competi- 
tors and  emulators  asleep,  as  never  believing  they 
should  be  in  possibility  of  advancement  till  they  see 
them  in  possession ;  so  that  upon  the  matter,  in  a 
great  wit,  deformity  is  an  advantage  to  rising.  Kings 
in  ancient  times  (and  at  this  present  in  some  coun- 

1  Rom.  i.  31;  2  Tim.  iii.  3. 
'3  '<  Where  she  errs  in  the  oue,  she  ventures  in  the  other." 


OF  BUILDING.  243 

tries)  were  wont  to  put  great  trust  in  eunuchs, 
because  they  that  are  envious  towards  all  are  more 
obnoxious  and  officious  towards  one ;  but  yet  their 
trust  towards  them  hath  rather  been  as  to  good 
spials/  and  good  whisperers,  than  good  magistrates 
and  officer's ;  and  much  like  is  the  reason  of  deformed 
persons.  Still  the  ground  is,  they  will,  if  they  be 
of  spirit,  seek  to  free  themselves  fi'om  scorn,  which 
must  be  either  by  virtue  or  malice  ;  and,  therefore, 
let  it  not  be  marvelled,  if  sometimes  they  prove  ex- 
cellent persons ;  as  was  Agesilaiis,  Zanger,  the  son 
of  Solyman,2  JEsop,  Gasca  president  of  Peni;  and 
Socrates  may  go  likewise  amongst  them,  with  others. 


XLV.— OF  BUILDING. 

Houses  are  built  to  live  in,  and  not  to  look  on, 
therefore,  let  use  be  preferred  before  uniformity,  ex- 
cept where  both  may  be  had.  Leave  the  goodly 
fabrics  of  houses,  for  beauty  only,  to  the  enchanted 
palaces  of  the  poets,  who  build  them  with  small 
cost.  He  that  builds  a  fair  house  upon  an  ill  seat,^ 
committeth  himself  to  prison ;  neither  do  I  reckon 
it  an  ill  seat  only  where  the  air  is  unwholesome,  but 
likewise  where  the  air  is  unequal.  As  you  shall 
see  many   fine  seats   set  upon   a  knap^  of  ground 

^  Spies.  3  Solynian  the  Magnificent,  Sultan  of  the  Turks. 

8  Site.  *  KnoU. 


244  ESSAYS. 

environed  with  higher  hills  round  about  it,  whereby 
the  heat  of  the  sun  is  pent  in,  and  the  wind  gatlier- 
eth  as  in  troughs ;  so  as  you  shall  have,  and  that 
suddenly,  as  great  diversity  of  heat  and  cold  as  if 
you  dwelt  in  several  places.  Neither  is  it  ill  air 
only  that  maketh  an  ill  seat ;  but  ill  ways,  ill  mar- 
kets, and,  if  you  will  consult  with  Momus,^  ill  neigh- 
bors. I  speak  not  of  many  more:  want  of  water, 
want  of  wood,  shade,  and  shelter,  want  of  fruitful- 
ness,  and  mixture  of  grounds  of  several  natures ; 
want  of  prospect,  want  of  level  grounds,  want  of 
places  at  some  near  distance  for  sports  of  limiting, 
hawking,  and  races ;  too  near  the  sea,  too  remote ; 
having  the  commodity  of  navigable  rivers,  or  the 
discommodity  of  their  overflowing ;  too  far  ofi*  from 
great  cities,  which  may  hinder  business ;  or  too  near 
them,  which  lurcheth^  all  provisions,  and  maketh 
every  thing  dear ;  where  a  man  hath  a  great  living 
laid  together,  and  where  he  is  scanted ;  all  which,  as 
it  is  impossible  perhaps  to  find  together,  so  it  is  good 
to  know  them,  and  think  of  them,  that  a  man  may 
take  as  many  as  he  can ;  and  if  he  have  several 
dwellings,  that  he  sort  them  so,  that  what  he  wanl^ 
eth  in  the  one  he  may  find  in  the  other.  Lucul- 
lus  answered  Pompey  well,  who,  when  he  saw  his 
stately  galleries  and  rooms  so  large  and  lightsome,  in 
one  of  his  houses,  said,  "  Surely,  an  excellent  place 

1  Have  a  liking  for  cheerful  society.     Momus  being  the  god  of 
mirth. 

•^  Eats  up. 


OF  BUILDING.  245 

for  summer,  but  how  do  you  do  in  winter  ?  "  Lucul- 
lus  answered,  "  Why,  do  you  not  think  me  as  wise 
as  some  fowls  are,  that  ever  change  their  abode 
towards  the  ^vinter  ?  "  ^ 

To  pass  from  the  seat  to  the  house  itself,  we  will 
do  as  Cicero  doth  in  the  orator's  art,  who  writes 
books  De  Oratoro,  and  a  book  he  entitles  Orator; 
whereof  the  former  delivers  the  precepts  of  the  art, 
and  the  latter  the  perfection.  We  will  therefore 
describe  a  princely  palace,  making  a  brief  model 
thereof;  for  it  is  strange  to  see,  now  in  Europe, 
such  huge  buildings  as  the  Vatican  and  Escurial,^ 
and  some  others  be,  and  yet  scarce  a  very  fair  room 
in  them. 

First,  therefore,  I  say,  you  cannot  have  a  perfect 
palace,  except  you  have  two  several  sides;  a  side 
for  the  banquet,  as  is  spoken  of  in  the  book  of  Es- 
ther,^ and  a  side  for  the  household ;  the  one  for 
feasts  and  triumphs,  and  the  other  for  dwelling.  I 
understand  both  these  sides  to  be  not  only  returns, 
but  parts  of  the  front,  and  to  be  uniform  without, 
though  severally  partitioned  within ;  and  to  be  on 
both  sides  of  a  great  and  stately  tower  in  the  midst 
of  the  front,  that,  as  it  were,  joineth  them  together 
on  either  hand.     I  would  have,  on  the  side  of  the 

1  Plut.  Vit.  Lucull.  39. 

^  A  vast  edifice,  about  twenty  miles  from  Madrid,  founded  by 
Philip  II. 

•  Ksth.  i.  5  ;  "The  King  made  a  feast  unto  all  the  people  that 
were  present  in  Shushan  the  palace,  both  unto  great  and  small, 
seven  days,  in  the  court  of  the  garden  of  the  king's  palace." 


246  ESSAYS. 

banquet  in  front,  one  only  goodly  room  above  stairs, 
of  some  forty  foot  high  ;  and  under  it  a  room  for  a 
dressing  or  preparing  place,  at  times  of  triumphs. 
On  the  other  side,  which  is  the  household  side,  I 
wish  it  divided  at  the  first  into  a  hall  and  a  chapel, 
(with  a  partition  between),  both  of  good  state  and 
bigness ;  and  those  not  to  go  all  the  length,  but  to 
have  at  the  further  end  a  winter  and  a  summer 
parlor,  both  fair ;  and  under  these  rooms  a  fair  and 
large  cellar  sunk  under  ground;  and  likewise  some 
privy  kitchens,  with  butteries,  and  pantries,  and  the 
like.  As  for  the  tower,  I  would  have  it  two  stories, 
of  eighteen  foot  high  apiece  above  the  two  wings ; 
and  a  goodly  leads  upon  the  top,  railed,  with  statues 
interposed;  and  the  same  tower  to  be  divided  into 
rooms,  as  shall  be  thought  fit.  The  stairs  likewise 
to  the  upper  rooms,  let  them  be  upon  a  fair  open 
newel,^  and  finely  railed  in  with  images  of  wood 
cast  into  a  brass  color,  and  a  very  fair  landing-place 
at  the  top.  But  this  to  be,  if  you  do  not  point  any 
of  the  lower  rooms  for  a  dining-place  of  servants ; 
for,  otherwise,  you  shall  have  the  servants'  dinner 
after  your  own ;  for  the  steam  of  it  will  come  up  as 
in  a  tunnel.^  And  so  much  for  the  front;  only  I 
understand  the  height  of  the  first  stairs  to  be  sixteen 
foot,  which  is  the  height  of  the  lower  room. 

Beyond  this  front  is  there  to  be  a  fair  court,  but 

1  The  cylinder  formed  by  the  small  end  of  the  steps  of  winding 
stairs. 

*  The  funnel  of  a  chimney. 


OF  BUILDING.  247 

three  sides  of  it  of  a  far  lower  building  than  the  front ; 
and  in  all  the  four  corners  of  that  court  fair  stair- 
cases, cast  into  turrets  on  the  outside,  and  not  within 
the  row  of  buildings  themselves ;  but  those  towers 
are  not  to  be  of  the  height  of  the  front,  but  rather 
proportionable  to  the  lower  building.  Let  the  court 
not  be  paved,  for  that  striketh  up  a  great  heat  in 
summer,  and  much  cold  in  winter ;  but  only  some 
side  alleys  with  a  cross,  and  the  quarters  to  graze, 
being  kept  shorn,  but  not  too  near  shorn.  The 
row  of  return  on  the  banquet  side,  let  it  be  all 
stately  galleries ;  in  which  galleries  let  there  be 
three  or  five  fine  cupolas  in  the  length  of  it,  placed 
at  equal  distance,  and  fine  colored  windows  of 
several  works ;  on  the  household  side,  chambers  of 
presence  and  ordinary  entertainments,  with  some 
bedchambers ;  and  let  all  three  sides  be  a  double 
house,  without  thorough  lights  on  the  sides,  that 
you  may  have  rooms  from  the  sun,  both  for  forenoon 
and  afternoon.  Cast  it,  also,  that  you  may  have 
rooms  both  for  summer  and  winter ;  shady  for  sum- 
mer, and  warm  for  winter.  You  shall  have  some- 
times fair  houses  so  full  of  glass,  that  one  cannot 
tell  where  to  become  ^  to  be  out  of  the  sun  or 
cold.  For  imbowed^  windows,  I  hold  them  of 
good  use ;  (in  cities,  indeed,  upright  ^  do  better,  in 
respect  of  the  uniformity  towards  the  street;)  for 
they  bo  pretty  retiring  places  for  conference;  and, 

1  Where  to  go.  2  Bow,  or  bay,  windows. 

8  Flush  with  the  wall 


248  ESSAYS. 

besides,  they  keep  both  the  wind  and  sun  off;  for 
that  which  would  strike  almost  through  the  room 
doth  scarce  pass  the  window :  but  let  them  be  but 
few,  four  in  the  court,  on  the  sides  only. 

Beyond  this  court,  let  there  be  an  inward  court, 
of  the  same  square  and  height,  which  is  to  be  envi- 
roned with  the  garden  on  all  sides ;  and  in  the 
inside,  cloistered  on  all  sides  upon  decent  and 
beautiful  arches,  as  high  as  the  first  story;  on  tlie 
under  story  towards  the  garden,  let  it  be  turned 
to  grotto,  or  place  of  shade,  or  estivation ;  and  only 
have  opening  and  windows  towards  the  garden,  and 
be  level  upon  the  floor,  no  whit  sunk  under  ground 
to  avoid  all  dampishness;  and  let  there  be  a  foun- 
tain, or  some  fair  work  of  statues  in  the  midst  of 
this  court,  and  to  be  paved  as  the  other  court  was. 
These  buildings  to  be  for  privy  lodgings  on  both 
sides,  and  the  end  for  privy  galleries ;  whereof  you 
must  foresee  that  one  of  them  be  for  an  infirmary, 
if  the  prince  or  any  special  person  should  be  sick, 
with  chambers,  bedchamber,  "  anticamera,"  ^  and 
"recamera,"^  joining  to  it;  this  upon  the  second 
story.  Upon  the  ground  story,  a  fair  gallery,  open, 
upon  pillars ;  and  upon  the  third  story,  likewise, 
an  open  gallery  upon  pillars,  to  take  the  prospect 
and  freshness  of  the  garden.  At  both  corners  of 
the  further  side,  by  way  of  return,  let  there  be 
two  delicate  or  rich  cabinets,  daintily  paved,  richly 
hanged,  glazed  with  crystalline  glass,  and  a  rich 

1  Antechamber.  "  Withdrawing-room. 


OF  GARDENS.  249 

cupola  in  the  midst,  and  all  other  elegancy  that  can 
be  thought  upon.  In  the  upper  gallery,  too,  I  wish 
that  there  may  be,  if  the  place  will  yield  it,  some 
fountains  running  in  divers  places  from  the  wall, 
with  some  fine  avoidances.^  And  thus  much  for 
the  model  of  the  palace,  save  that  you  must  have, 
before  you  come  to  the  front,  three  courts :  a  green 
court  plain,  with  a  wall  about  it ;  a  second  court  of 
the  same,  but  more  garnished  with  little  turrets,  or 
rather  embellishments,  upon  the  wall ;  and  a  third 
court,  to  make  a  square  with  the  front,  but  not  to  be 
built,  nor  yet  inclosed  with  a  naked  wall,  but  in- 
closed with  terraces  leaded  aloft,  and  fairly  gar- 
nished on  the  three  sides,  and  cloistered  on  the 
inside  with  pillars,  and  not  with  arches  below.  As 
for  offices,  let  them  stand  at  distance,  with  some  low 
galleries  to  pass  from  them  to  the  palace  itself. 


Vyt,vt.  _ 


XLVL  — OF  GARDENS. 

God  Almighty  first  planted  a  garden;  and,  in- 
deed, it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleasures ;  it  is  the 
greatest  refreshment  to  the  spirits  of  man ;  without 
which  buildings  and  palaces  are  but  gross  handy- 
works  ;  and  a  man  shall  ever  see,  that,  when  ages 
grow  to  civility  and  elegancy,  men  come  to  build 
stately,  sooner  than  to  garden  finely ;  as  if  garden- 

^  Watercourses. 


250  ESSAYS. 

ing  were  the  greater  perfection.  I  do  hold  it,  in 
the  royal  ordering  of  gardens,  there  ought  to  be 
gardens  for  all  the  months  in  the  year,  in  which, 
^severally,  things  of  beauty  may  be  then  in  season. 
For  December,  and  January,  and  the  latter  part  of 
November,  you  must  take  such  things  as  are  green 
all  winter :  holly,  ivy,  bays,  juniper,  cypress-trees, 
yew,  pineapple-trees ;  ^  fir-trees,  rosemary,  lavender ; 
periwinkle,  the  white,  the  purple,  and  the  blue ; 
germander,  flags,  orange-trees,  lemon-trees,  and  myr- 
tles, if  they  be  stoved ;  ^  and  sweet  marjoram,  warm 
set.  There  foUoweth,  for  the  latter  part  of  January 
and  February,  the  mezereon-tree,  which  then  blossoms ; 
crocus  vemus,  both  the  yellow  and  the  gray ;  prim- 
roses, anemones,  the  early  tulip,  the  hyacinthus 
orieutalis,  chamairis  fritellaria.  For  March,  there 
come  violets,  especially  the  single  blue,  which  are 
the  earliest ;  the  yellow  daffodil,  the  daisy,  the 
almond-tree  in  blossom,  the  peach-tree  in  blossom, 
the  cornelian-tree  in  blossom,  sweet-brier.  In  April, 
follow  the  double  white  violet,  the  wall-flower,  the 
stock-gillyflower,  the  cowslip,  flower-de-luces,  and 
lilies  of  all  natures ;  rosemary  flowers,  the  tulip,  the 
double  peony,  the  pale  daffodil,  the  French  honey- 
suckle, the  cherry-tree  in  blossom,  the  damascene^ 
and  plum-trees  in  blossom,  the  white  thorn  in 
leaf,  the  lilac-tree.  In  May  and  June  come  pinks 
of  all  sorts,  especially  the  blush-pink;  roses  of  all 

*  Pine  trees.  '  Kept  warm  in  a  greenhouse. 

'  The  damson,  or  plum  of  Damascus. 


OF  GARDENS.  251 

kinds,  except  the  musk,  which  comes  later;  honey- 
suckles, strawberries,  bugloss,  columbine,  the  French 
marigold,  flos  Africanus,  cherry-tree  in  fruit,  ribes,^ 
figs  in  fruit,  rasps,  vine-flowers,  lavender  in  flowers, 
the  sweet  satyrian,  with  the  white  flower;  herba 
muscaria,  lilium  convallium,  the  apple-tree  in  blos- 
'som.  In  July  come  gillyflowers  of  all  varieties, 
musk-roses,  the  lime-tree  in  blossom,  early  pears,  and 
plums  in  fruit,  genitings,^  codlins.  In  August  come 
plums  of  all  sorts  in  fruit,  pears,  apricots,  barberries, 
filberts,  musk-melons,  monks-hoods,  of  all  colors.  In 
September  come  grapes,  apples,  poppies  of  all  colors, 
peaches,  melocotones,^  nectarines,  cornelians,*  war- 
dens,^ quinces.  In  October,  and  the  beginning  of 
November,  come  services,  medlars,  bullaces,  roses  cut 
or  removed  to  come  late,  hollyoaks,  and  such  like. 
These  particulars  are  for  the  climate  of  London ; 
but  my  meaning  is  perceived,  that  you  may  have 
"ver  perpetuum,"^  as  the  place  affbrds. 

And  because  the  breath  of  flowers  is  far  sweeter 
in  the  air  (where  it  comes  and  goes,  like  the  war- 
bling of  music),  than  in  the  hand,  therefore  nothing 
is  more  fit  for  that  delight,  than  to  know  what  be 

^  Currants. 

^  An  apple  that  is  gathered  very  early. 

3  A  kind  of  quince,  so  called  from  "cotoneum,"  or  "cydonium," 
the  Latin  name  of  the  quince. 

*  The  fruit  of  the  cornel-tree. 

*  The  warden  was  a  large  pear,  so  called  from  its  keeping  welL 
Warden-pie  was  formerly  much  esteemed  in  this  country. 

*  Perpetual  spring. 


252  ESSAYS. 

the  flowers  and  plants  that  do  best  perfume  the 
air.  Roses,  damask  and  red,  are  fast  flowers^  of 
their  smell,  so  that  you  may  walk  by  a  whole  row 
of  them,  and  find  nothing  of  their  sweetness ;  yea, 
though  it  be  in  a  morning's  dew.  Bays,  likewise, 
yield  no  smell  as  they  grow,  rosemary  little,  nor 
'sweet  marjoram ;  that  which,  above  all  others,  yields 
the  sweetest  smell  in  the  air,  is  the  violet,  especially 
-the  white  double  violet,  which  comes  twice  a  year, 
about  the  middle  of  April,  and  about  Bartholomew- 
tide.  Next  to  that  is  the  musk-rose ;  then  the 
strawberry  leaves  dying,  with  a  most  excellent  cor- 
dial smell ;  then  the  flower  of  the  vines,  it  is  a  little 
dust  like  the  dust  of  a  bent,^  which  grows  upon  the 
cluster  in  the  first  coming  forth ;  then  sweet-brier, 
then  wall-flowers,  which  are  very  delightful  to  be 
set  under  a  parlor  or  lower  chamber  window  ;  then 
pinks  and  gillyflowers,  specially  the  matted  pink  and 
clove  gillyflower ;  then  the  flowers  of  the  lime-tree ; 
then  the  honeysuckles,  so  they  be  somewhat  afar 
off".  Of  bean-flowers^  I  speak  not,  because  they 
are  field-flowers  ;  but  those  which  perfume  the  air 
most  delightfully,  not  passed  by  as  the  rest,  but 
being  trodden  upon  and  crushed,  are  three ;  that  is, 
burnet,  wild  thyme,  and  water-mints ;  therefore  you 
are  to  set  whole  alleys  of  them,  to  have  the  pleasure 
when  you  walk  or  tread. 

1  Flowers  that  do  not  send  forth  their  smell  at  any  distance. 

2  A  species  of  grass  of  the  genus  argostis. 
'  The  blossoms  of  the  bean. 


OF  GAEDENS.  253 

For  gardens  (speaking  of  those  which  are  indeed 
prince-like,  as  we  have  done  of  buildings),  the  con- 
tents ought  not  well  to  be  under  thirty  acres  of 
ground,  and  to  be  divided  into  three  parts ;  a  green 
in  the  entrance,  a  heath,  or  desert,  in  the  going  forth, 
and  the  main  garden  in  the  midst,  besides  alleys  on 
both  sides ;  and  I  like  well  that  four  acres  of  ground 
be  assigned  to  the  green,  six  to  the  heath,  four  and 
four  to  either  side,  and  twelve  to  the  main  garden. 
The  green  hath  two  pleasures:  the  one,  because 
nothing  is  more  pleasant  to  the  eye  than  green 
grass  kept  finely  shorn ;  the  other,  because  it  will 
give  you  a  fair  alley  in  the  midst,  by  which  you 
may  go  in  front  upon  a  stately  hedge,  which  is  to 
inclose  the  garden.  But  because  the  alley  will  be 
long,  and  in  great  heat  of  the  year,  or  day,  you 
ought  not  to  buy  the  shade  in  the  garden  by  going 
in  the  sun  through  the  green ;  therefore  you  are, 
of  either  side  the  green,  to  plant  a  covert  alley, 
upon  carpenter's  work,  about  twelve  foot  in  height, 
by  which  you  may  go  in  shade  into  the  garden. 
As  for  the  making  of  knots  or  figures,  with  divers 
colored  earths,  that  they  may  lie  under  the  windows 
of  the  house  on  that  side  which  the  garden  stands, 
they  be  but  toys ;  you  may  see  as  good  sights  many 
times  in  tarts.  The  garden  is  best  to  be  square, 
encompassed  on  all  the  four  sides  with  a  stately 
arched  hedge  :  the  arches  to  be  upon  pillars  of  car- 
penter's work,  of  some  ten  foot  high,  and  six  foot 
broad,  and  the  spaces  between  of  the  same  dimen- 


254  ESSAYS. 

sion  with  the  breadth  of  the  arch.  Over  the  arclies 
let  there  be  an  entire  Iiedge  of  some  four  foot  high, 
framed  also  upon  carpenter's  work ;  and  upon  the 
upper  hedge,  over  every  arch  a  little  turret,  with  a 
belly  enough  to  receive  a  cage  of  birds ;  and  over 
every  space  between  the  arches  some  other  little 
figure,  with  broad  plates  of  round  colored  glass  gilt, 
for  the  sun  to  play  upon ;  but  this  hedge  I  intend 
to  be  raised  upon  a  bank,  not  steep,  but  gently 
slope,  of  some  six  foot,  set  all  with  flowers.  Also, 
I  understand  that  this  square  of  the  garden  should 
not  be  the  whole  breadth  of  the  ground,  but  to  leave 
on  either  side  ground  enough  for  diversity  of  side 
alleys,  unto  which  the  two  covert  alleys  of  the  green 
may  deliver  you ;  ^  but  there  must  be  no  alleys  with 
hedges  at  either  end  of  this  great  inclosure ;  not  at 
the  hither  end,  for  letting  ^  your  prospect  upon  this 
fair  hedge  from  the  green  ;  nor  at  the  further  end  for 
letting  your  prospect  from  the  hedge  through  the 
arches  upon  the  heath. 

For  the  ordering  of  the  ground  within  the  great 
hedge,  I  leave  it  to  variety  of  device;  advising, 
nevertheless,  that  whatsoever  form  you  cast  it  into 
first,  it  be  not  too  bushy,  or  full  of  work ;  wherein 
I,  for  my  part,  do  not  like  images  cut  out  in  juni- 
per or  other  garden  stuiF;  they  be  for  children. 
Little  low  hedges,  round  like  welts,  with  some 
pretty  pyramids,  I  like  well ;  and  in  some  places 
fair  columns,  upon  frames  of  carpenter's  work.      I 

^  Bring  or  lead  you.  ^  Impeding. 


OF  GARDENS.  255 

would  also  have  the  alleys  spacious  and  fair.  You 
may  have  closer  alleys  upon  the  side  grounds,  but 
none  in  the  main  garden.  I  wish,  also,  in  the  very 
middle,  a  fair  mount,  with  three  ascents  and  alleys, 
enough  for  four  to  walk  abreast;  which  I  would 
have  to  be  perfect  circles,  without  any  bulwarks  or 
embossments ;  and  the  whole  mount  to  be  thirty 
foot  high,  and  some  fine  banqueting-house,  with  some 
chimneys  neatly  cast,  and  without  too  much  glass. 

For  fountains,  they  are  a  great  beauty  and  re- 
freshment ;  but  pools  mar  all,  and  make  the  garden 
unwholesome,  and  full  of  flies  and  frogs.  Fountains 
I  intend  to  be  of  two  natures;  the  one  that  sprin- 
kleth  or  spouteth  water ;  the  other,  a  fair  receipt  of 
water,  of  some  thirty  or  forty  foot  square,  but  with- 
out fish,  or  slime,  or  mud.  For  the  first,  the  orna- 
ments of  images,  gilt  or  of  marble,  which  are  in 
use,  do  well;  but  the  main  matter  is  so  to  convey 
the  water,  as  it  never  stay,  either  in  the  bowls  or  in 
the  cistern ;  that  the  water  be  never  by  rest  dis- 
colored, green,  or  red,  or  the  like,  or  gather  any 
mossiness  or  putrefaction;  besides  that,  it  is  to  be 
cleansed  every  day  by  the  hand  ;  also,  some  steps 
up  to  it,  and  some  fine  pavement  about  it,  doth  well. 
As  for  the  other  kind  of  fountain,  which  we  may 
call  a  bathing-pool,  it  may  admit  much  curiosity 
and  beauty,  wherewith  we  will  not  trouble  our- 
selves :  as,  that  the  bottom  be  finely  paved,  and 
with  images ;  the  sides  likewise ;  and,  withal,  em- 
bellished  with   colored    glass,   and   such    things  of 


256  ESSAYS. 

lustre ;  encompassed,  also,  with  fine  rails  of  low 
statues.  But  the  main  point  is  the  same  that  we 
mentioned  in  the  former  kind  of  fountain ;  which 
is,  that  tlie  Avater  be  in  perpetual  motion,  fed  by  a 
water  higher  than  the  pool,  and  delivered  into  it  by 
fair  spouts,  and  then  discharged  away  under  ground, 
by  some  equality  of  bores,  that  it  stay  little  ;  and 
for  fine  devices,  of  arching  water  ^  without  spilling, 
and  making  it  rise  in  several  forms  (of  feathers, 
drinking-glasses,  canopies,  and  the  like),  they  be 
pretty  things  to  look  on,  but  nothing  to  health  and 
sweetness. 

For  the  heath,  which  was  the  third  part  of  our 
plot,  I  wish  it  to  be  framed  as  much  as  may  be  to 
a  natural  wildness.  Trees  I  would  have  none  in  it, 
but  some  thickets  made  only  of  sweet-brier  and 
honeysuckle,  and  some  wild  vine  amongst ;  and  the 
ground  set  Avith  violets,  strawberries,  and  primroses ; 
for  these  are  sweet,  and  prosper  in  the  shade,  and 
these  to  be  in  the  heath  here  and  there,  not  in  any 
order.  I  like  also  little  heaps,  in  the  nature  of 
molehills  (such  as  are  in  wild  heaths),  to  be  set, 
some  with  wild  thyme,  some  with  pinks,  some  with 
germander,  that  gives  a  good  flower  to  the  eye ; 
some  with  periwinkle,  some  with  violets,  some  with 
strawberries,  some  with  cowslips,  some  with  daisies, 
some  with  red  roses,  some  with  lilium  convallium,^ 

^  Causing  the  water  to  fall  in  a  perfect  arch,  without  any  spray 
escaping  from  the  jet. 
*  Lilies  of  the  valley. 


OF  GARDENS.  25? 

some  with  sweet-williams  red,  some  with  bear's- 
foot,  and  the  like  low  flowers,  being  withal  sweet 
and  sightly ;  part  of  which  heaps  to  be  with  stand- 
ards of  little  bushes  pricked  upon  their  top,  and 
part  without ;  the  standards  to  be  roses,  juniper, 
holly,  barberries  (but  here  and  there,  because  of 
the  smell  of  their  blossom),  red  currants,  gooseber- 
ries, rosemary,  bays,  sweetbrier,  and  such  like ;  but 
these  standards  to  be  kept  with  cutting,  that  they 
grow  not  out  of  course. 

For  the  side  grounds,  you  are  to  fill  them  with 
variety  of  alleys,  private,  to  give  a  full  shade ;  some 
of  them  wheresoever  the  sun  be.  You  are  to  frame 
some  of  them  likewise  for  shelter,  that  when  the 
wind  blows  sharp,  you  may  walk  as  in  a  gallery : 
and  those  alleys  must  be  likewise  hedged  at  both 
ends,  to  keep  out  the  wind ;  and  these  closer  alleys 
must  be  ever  finely  gravelled,  and  no  grass,  because 
of  going  wet.  In  many  of  these  alleys,  likewise,  you 
are  to  set  fruit-trees  of  all  sorts,  as  well  upon  the 
walls  as  in  ranges  ;  ^  and  this  should  be  generally 
observed,  that  the  borders  wherein  you  plant  your 
fruit-trees  be  fair,  and  large,  and  low,  and  not  steep  ; 
and  set  with  fine  flowers,  but  thin  and  sparingly, 
lest  they  deceive  ^  the  trees.  At  the  end  of  both  the 
side  grounds  I  would  have  a  mount  of  some  pretty 
height,  leaving  the  wall  of  the  inclosure  breast  high, 
to  look  abroad  into  the  fields. 

For  the  main  garden,  I  do  not  deny   but  there 

^  In  rows.  .  *  Insidiously  subtract  nourishment  from. 

17 


258  ESSAYS. 

should  be  some  fair  alleys  ranged  on  both  sides  with 
fruit-trees,  and  some  pretty  tufts  of  fruit-trees  and 
arbors  with  seats,  set  in  some  decent  order ;  but 
these  to  be  by  no  means  set  too  thick,  but  to  leave 
the  main  garden  so  as  it  be  not  close,  but  the  air 
open  and  free.  For  as  for  shade,  I  would  have  you 
rest  upon  the  alleys  of  the  side  grounds,  there  to 
walk,  if  you  be  disposed,  in  the  heat  of  the  year  or 
day  ;  but  to  make  account  ^  that  the  main  garden  is 
for  the  more  temperate  parts  of  the  year,  and  in  the 
heat  of  summer  for  the  morning  and  the  evening  or 
overcast  days. 

For  aviaries,  I  like  them  not,  except  they  be  of 
that  largeness  as  they  may  be  turfed,  and  have  living 
plants  and  bushes  set  in  them ;  that  the  birds  may 
have  more  scope  and  natural  nestling,  and  that  no 
foulness  appear  in  the  floor  of  the  aviary.  So  I 
have  made  a  platform  of  a  princely  garden,  partly  by 
precept,  partly  by  dra^ving ;  not  a  model,  but  some 
general  lines  of  it ;  and  in  this  I  have  spared  for  no 
cost.  But  it  is  nothing  for  great  princes,  that,  for 
the  most  part,  taking  advice  with  workmen,  with  no 
less  cost  set  their  things  together,  and  sometimes  add 
statues  and  such  things  for  state  and  magnificence, 
but  nothing  to  the  true  pleasure  of  a  garden. 

1  To  consider  or  expect. 


OF  NEGOTIATING.  259 


XLVIL  — OF  NEGOTIATING. 

It  is  generally  better  to  deal  by  speech  than  by 
letter;  and  by  the  mediation  of  a  third,  than  by  a 
man's  self.  Letters  are  good,  when  a  man  would 
draw  an  answer  by  letter  back  again ;  or  when  it 
may  serve  for  a  man's  justification  afterwards  to 
produce  his  own  letter,  or  where  it  may  be  danger 
to  be  interrupted  or  heard  by  pieces.  To  deal  in 
person  is  good,  when  a  man's  face  breedeth  regard, 
as  commonly  with  inferiors ;  or  in  tender  cases, 
where  a  man's  eye  upon  the  countenance  of  him  with 
whom  he  speaketh,  may  give  him  a  direction  how  far 
to  go  ;  and,  generally,  where  a  man  will  reserve  to 
himself  liberty,  either  to  disavow  or  to  expound.  In 
choice  of  instruments,  it  is  better  to  choose  men  of 
a  plainer  sort,  that  are  like  to  do  that  that  is  com- 
mitted to  them,  and  to  report  back  again  faithfully 
the  success,  than  those  that  are  cunning  to  contrive 
out  of  other  men's  business  somewhat  to  grace  them- 
selves, and  will  help  the  matter  in  report,  for  satis- 
faction sake.  Use  also  such  persons  as  affect  ^  the 
business  wherein  they  are  employed,  for  that  quick- 
eneth  much ;  and  such  as  are  fit  for  the  matter, 
as  bold  men  for  expostulation,  fairspoken  men  for 
persuasion,  crafty  men  for  inquiry  and  observation, 
froward  and  absurd  men  for  business  that  doth  not 

1  Love,  are  pleased  with. 


260  ESSAYS. 

well  bear  out  itself.  Use  also  such  as  have  been 
lucky  and  prevailed  before  in  things  wherein  you 
have  employed  them  ;  for  that  breeds  confidence, 
and  they  will  strive  to  maintain  their  prescription. 
It  is  better  to  sound  a  person  with  whom  one  deals 
afar  off,  than  to  fall  upon  the  point  at  first,  except 
you  mean  to  surprise  him  by  some  short  question. 
It  is  better  dealing  with  men  in  appetite,^  than  with 
those  that  are  where  they  would  be.  If  a  man  deal 
with  another  upon  conditions,  the  start  of  first  per- 
formance is  all ;  which  a  man  cannot  reasonably 
demand,  except  either  the  nature  of  the  thing  be 
such,  which  must  go  before  ;  or  else  a  man  can  per- 
suade the  other  party,  that  he  shall  still  need  him  in 
some  other  thing;  or  else  that  he  be  counted  the 
honester  man.  All  practice  is  to  discover,  or  to 
work.  Men  discover  themselves  in  trust,  in  passion, 
at  unawares ;  and,  of  necessity,  when  they  would 
have  somewhat  done,  and  cannot  find  an  apt  pretext. 
If  you  would  work  any  man,  you  must  either  know 
his  nature  and  fashions,  and  so  lead  him ;  or  his 
ends,  and  so  persuade  him  ;  or  his  weakness  and 
disadvantages,  and  so  awe  him  ;  or  those  that  have 
interest  in  him,  and  so  govern  him.  In  dealing  with 
cunning  persons,  we  must  ever  consider  their  ends, 
to  interpret  their  speeches ;  and  it  is  good  to  say 
little  to  them,  and  that  which  they  least  look  for. 

^  It  is  more  advantageous  to  deal  with  men  whose  desires  are 
not  yet  satisfied,  than  with  those  who  have  gained  all  they  have 
wished  for,  and  are  likely  to  be  proof  against  inducements. 


OF   FOLLOWERS  AND  FRIENDS.  261 

In  all  negotiations  of  difficulty,  a  man  may  not  look 
to  sow  and  reap  at  once ;  but  must  prepare  business, 
and  so  ripen  it  by  degrees. 


XLVIII.  — OF  FOLLOWERS  AND  FRIENDS. 

Costly  followers  are  not  to  be  liked,  lest,  while 
a  man  maketh  his  train  longer,  he  make  his  wings 
shorter.  I  reckon  to  be  costly,  not  them  alone 
which  charge  the  purse,  but  which  are  wearisome 
and  importune  in  suits.  Ordinary  followers  ought 
to  challenge  no  higher  conditions  than  countenance, 
recommendation,  and  protection  from  wrongs.  Fac- 
tious followers  are  worse  to  be  liked,  which  fol- 
low not  upon  affection  to  him  with  whom  they 
range  themselves,  but  upon  discontentment  con- 
ceived against  some  other;  whereupon  commonly 
ensueth  that  ill  intelligence,  that  we  many  times  see 
between  great  personages.  Likewise  glorious^  fol- 
lowers, who  make  themselves  as  trumpets  of  the 
commendations  of  those  they  follow,  are  full  of  in- 
convenience, for  they  taint  business  through  want 
of  secrecy ;  and  they  export  honor  from  a  man,  and 
make  him  a  return  in  envy.  There  is  a  kind  of  fol- 
lowers, likewise,  which  are  dangerous,  being  indeed 
espials  ;  which  inquire  the  secrets  of  the  house,  and 

^  In  the  sense  of  the  Latin  "gloriosus,"  "boastful,"  "brag- 
ging-" 


262  ESSAYS. 

bear  tales  of  them  to  others ;  yet  such  men,  many 
times,  are  in  great  favor,  for  they  are  officious,  and 
commonly  exchange  tales.  The  following,  by  cer- 
tain estates^  of  men,  answerable  to  that  which  a 
great  person  himself  professeth  (as  of  soldiers  to 
him  that  hath  been  employed  in  the  wars,  and  the 
like),  hath  ever  been  a  thing  civil  and  well  taken 
even  in  monarchies,  so  it  be  without  too  much  pomp 
or  popularity.  But  the  most  honorable  kind  of  fol- 
lowing, is  to  be  followed  as  one  that  apprehendeth 
to  advance  virtue  and  desert  in  all  sorts  of  persons  ; 
and  yet,  where  there  is  no  eminent  odds  in  suffi- 
ciency, it  is  better  to  take  with  the  more  passable, 
than  with  the  more  able ;  and,  besides,  to  speak 
truth  in  base  times,  active  men  are  of  more  use  than 
virtuous.  It  is  true,  that,  in  government,  it  is  good 
to  use  men  of  one  rank  equally ;  for  to  countenance 
some  extraordinarily,  is  to  make  them  insolent,  and 
the  rest  discontent,  because  they  may  claim  a  due  : 
but,  contrariwise,  in  favor,  to  use  men  with  much 
difference  and  election  is  good:  for  it  maketh  the 
persons  preferred  more  thankful,  and  the  rest  more 
officious,  because  all  is  of  favor.  It  is  good  discre- 
tion not  to  make  too  much  of  any  man  at  the  first, 
because  one  cannot  hold  out  that  proportion.  To  be 
governed,  as  we  call  it,  by  one,  is  not  safe,  for  it 
shows  softness,^  and  gives  a  freedom  to  scandal  and 
disreputation ;   for  those  that  would  not  censure,  or 

1  Professions  or  classes. 

3  Weakness,  or  indecision  of  character. 


OF  FOLLOWERS  AND  FRIENDS.  263 

speak  ill  of  a  man  immediately,  will  talk  more  boldly 
of  those  that  are  so  great  with  them,  and  thereby 
wound  their  honor ;  yet  to  be  distracted  with  many 
is  worse,  for  it  makes  men  to  be  of  the  last  impres- 
sion, and  full  of  change.  To  take  advice  of  some 
few  friends  is  ever  honorable  ;  for  lookers-on  many 
times  see  more  than  gamesters,  and  the  vale  best 
discovereth  the  hill.  There  is  little  friendship  in  the 
world,  and  least  of  all  between  equals,  which  was 
wont  ^  to  be  magnified.  That  that  is,  is  between 
superior  and  inferior,^  whose  fortunes  may  compre- 
hend the  one  the  other. 

^  He  probably  alludes  to  the  ancient  stories  of  the  friendship  of 
Orestes  and  Pylades,  Theseus  and  Pirithous,  Damon  and  Pythias, 
and  others,  and  tlie  maxims  of  the  ancient  philosophers.  Aristotle 
considers  that  equality  in  circumstances  and  station  is  one  requisite 
of  friendship.  Seneca  and  Quintus  Curtius  express  the  same  opin- 
ion. It  seems  hardly  probable  that  Lord  Bacon  reflected  deeply 
when  he  penned  this  passage,  for  between  equals,  jealousy,  the 
most  insidious  of  all  the  enemies  of  friendship,  has  the  least  chance 
o''  originating.  Dr.  Johnson  says:  "  Friendship  is  seldom  lasting 
but  between  equals,  or  where  the  superiority  on  one  side  is  reduced 
by  some  equivalent  advantage  on  the  other.  Benefits  which  cannot 
be  repaid,  and  obligations  which  cannot  be  discharged,  are  not 
commonly  found  to  increase  affection;  they  excite  gratitude  indeed, 
and  heighten  veneration,  but  commonly  take  away  that  easy  free- 
dom and  familiarity  of  intercourse,  without  which,  though  there 
may  be  fidelity,  and  zeal,  and  admiration,  there  cannot  be  friend- 
ship." —  The  Rambler,  No.  64. 

2  In  such  a  case,  gratitude  and  admiration  exist  on  the  one  hand, 
esteem  and  confidence  on  the  other. 


264  ESSAYS. 


XLIX.  — OF  SUITORS. 

Many  ill  matters  and  projects  are  undertaken  • 
and  private  suits  do  putrefy  the  public  good.  Many 
good  matters  are  undertaken  with  bad  minds ;  I 
mean  not  only  corrupt  minds,  but  crafty  minds,  that 
intend  not  perfonnance.  Some  embrace  suits,  which 
never  mean  to  deal  effectually  in  them ;  but  if  they 
see  there  may  be  life  in  the  matter,  by  some  other 
mean  they  will  be  content  to  win  a  thank,  or  take  a 
second  reward,  or,  at  least,  to  make  use,  in  the 
mean  time,  of  the  suitor's  hopes.  Some  take  hold 
of  suits  only  for  an  occasion  to  cross  some  other, 
or  to  make  an  information,  whereof  they  could  not 
otherwise  have  apt  pretext,  without  care  what  be- 
come of  the  suit  when  that  turn  is  served;  or, 
generally,  to  make  other  men's  business  a  kind  of 
entertainment  to  bring  in  their  own :  nay,  some 
undertake  suits  with  a  full  purpose  to  let  them 
fall,  to  the  end  to  gratify  the  adverse  party,  or  com- 
petitor. Surely,  there  is  in  some  sort  a  right  in 
every  suit ;  either  a  right  of  equity,  if  it  be  a  suit 
of  controversy,  or  a  right  of  desert,  if  it  be  a  suit 
of  petition.  If  affection  lead  a  man  to  favor  the 
wrong  side  in  justice,  let  him  rather  use  his  coun- 
tenance to  compound  the  matter  than  to  carry  it. 
If  affection  lead  a  man  to  favor  the  less  worthy  in 
desert,  let  him  do  it  without  depraving  ^  or  disabling 

^  Lowering,  or  humiliating. 


OF  SUITORS.  265 

the  better  deserver.  In  suits  which  a  man  doth  not 
well  understand,  it  is  good  to  refer  them  to  some 
friend  of  trust  and  judgment,  that  may  report  whetlier 
he  may  deal  in  them  with  honor ;  but  let  him  choose 
well  his  referendaries,^  for  else  he  may  be  led  by 
the  nose.  Suitors  arc  so  distasted  ^  with  delays  and 
abuses,  that  plain  dealing  in  denying  to  deal  in  suits 
at  first,  and  reporting  the  success  barely,^  and  in 
challenging  no  more  thanks  than  one  hath  deserved, 
is  grown  not  only  honorable,  but  also  gracious.  In 
suits  of  favor,  the  first  coming  ought  to  take  little 
place  ;*  so  far  forth  ^  consideration  may  be  had  of 
his  trust,  that  if  intelligence  of  the  matter  could 
not  otherwise  have  been  had  but  by  him,  advantage 
be  not  taken  of  the  note,**  but  the  party  left  to  his 
other  means,  and  in  some  sort  recompensed  for  his 
discovery.  To  be  ignorant  of  the  value  of  a  suit  is 
simplicity;  as  well  as  to  be  ignorant  of  the  right 
thereof,  is  want  of  conscience.  Secrecy  in  suits  is  a 
great  mean  of  obtaining ;  for  voicing  them  to  be  in 
forwardness  may  discourage  some  kind  of  suitors,  but 
doth  quicken  and  awake  others.  But  timing  of  the 
suit  is  the  principal ;  timing,  I  say,  not  only  in  respect 
of  the  person  that  should  grant  it,  but  in  respect  of 
those  which  are  like  to  cross  it.     Let  a  man,  in  the 

^  Referees.  2  Disgusted. 

8  Giving  no  false  color  to  the  degree  of  success  which  has  at- 
tended the  prosecution  of  the  suit. 
♦  To  have  little  effect. 
'  To  this  extent.  •  Of  the  information. 


2G6  ESSAYS. 

choice  of  his  mean,  rather  choose  the  fittest  mean, 
than  the  greatest  mean;  and  rather  them  that  deal 
in  certain  things,  than  those  that  are  general.  The 
reparation  of  a  denial  is  sometimes  equal  to  the  first 
grant,  if  a  man  show  himself  neither  dejected  nor 
discontented.  "Iniquum  petas,  ut  sequum  feras,"^ 
is  a  good  rule,  where  a  man  hath  strength  of  favor ; 
but  otherwise  a  man  were  better  rise  in  his  suit; 
for  he  that  would  have  ventured  at  first  to  have 
lost  the  suitor,  will  not,  in  the  conclusion,  lose  both 
the  suitor  and  his  own  former  favor.  Nothing  is 
thought  so  easy  a  request  to  a  great  person  as  his 
letter:  and  yet  if  it  be  not  in  a  good  cause,  it  is 
so  much  out  of  his  reputation.  There  are  no  worse 
instruments  than  these  general  contrivers  of  suits ; 
for  they  are  but  a  kind  of  poison  and  infection  to 
public  proceedings. 


V 


L.  — OF  STUDIES.2 

Studies  serve  for  delight,  for  ornament,  and  for 
ability.  Their  chief  use  for  delight,  is  in  private- 
ness  and  retiring;  for  ornament,  is  in  discourse; 
and  for  ability,  is  in  the  judgment  and  disposition 
of  business;  for  expert  men  can  execute,  and  per- 

1  "Ask  what  is  exorbitant,  that  you  may  obtain  what  is  mod- 
erate." 

^  This  fonned  the  first  essay  in  the  earliest  edition  of  the  work. 


OF  STUDIES.  267 

haps  judge  of  particulars  one  by  one ;  but  the  gen- 
eral counsels,  and  the  plots  and  marshalling  of 
affairs,  come  best  from  those  that  are  learned.  To 
spend  too  much  time  in  studies,  is  sloth ;  to  use 
them  too  much  for  ornament,  is  affectation ;  to  make 
judgment  wholly  by  their  rules,  is  the  humor  of  a 
scholar.  They  perfect  nature,  and  are  perfected 
by  experience;  for  natural  abilities  are  like  natural 
plants,  that  need  pruning  by  study ;  and  studies 
themselves  do  give  forth  directions  too  much  at 
large,  except  they  be  bounded  in  by  experience. 
Crafty  men  contemn  studies,  simple  men  admire 
them,  and  wise  men  use  them ;  for  they  teach  not 
their  own  use ;  but  that  is  a  wisdom  without  them 
and  above  them,  won  by  observation.  Read  not  to^ 
contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  believe  and  take  for 
granted,  nor  to  find  talk  and  discourse,  but  to  weigh 
and  consider.  Some  books  are  to  be  tasted,  others 
to  be  swallowed,  and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and 
digested;  that  is,  some  books  are  to  be  read  only 
in  parts ;  others  to  be  read,  but  not  curiously ;  * 
and  some  few  to  be  read  wholly,  and  with  diligence 
and  attention.  Some  books  also  may  be  read  by 
deputy,  and  extracts  made  of  them  by  others ;  but 
that  would  be  only  in  the  less  important  arguments 
and  the  meaner  sort  of  books ;  else  distilled  books 
are,  like  common  distilled  waters,  flashy  ^  things. 
Reading  maketh  a  full  man ;  conference  a  ready 
man  ;  and  writing  an  exact  man ;  and,  therefore,  if 

1  Attentively.  *  Vapid ;  without  taste  or  spirit. 


268  ESSAYS. 

a  man  write  little,  he  had  need  have  a  great  memory; 

if  he  confer  little,  he  had  need  have  a  present  wit ; 

and  if  he  read  little,  he  had  need  have  much  cunning, 

to  seem  to  know  that  he  doth  not.     Histories  make 

/men  wise ;  poets,  witty ;  the  mathematics,  subtile ; 

/  natural  philosophy,  deep ;  moral,  grave ;  logic  and 

\^  rhetoric,  able  to  contend :  "  Abeunt  studia  in  mores ; "  ^ 

nay,  there  is  no  stand  or  impediment  in  the  wit,  but 

may  be  wrought  out  by  fit  studies.     Like  as  diseases 

of  the  body  may  have  appropriate  exercises,  bowling 

is  good  for  the  stone  and  reins,  shooting  for  the  lungs 

and  breast,  gentle  walking  for  the  stomach,  riding 

for  the  head  and  the  like ;  so,  if  a  man's  wit  be 

wandering,  let  him  study  the  mathematics ;  for  in 

demonstrations,  if  his  wit  be  called  away  never  so 

little,  he  must  begin  again;  if  his  wit  be  not  apt 

to  distinguish  or  find  dificrence,  let  him  study  the 

schoolmen,  for  they  are  "  Cymini  sectores."  ^     If  he 

be  not  apt  to  beat  over  matters,  and  to  call  up  one 

/  thing  to  prove  and  illustrate  another,  let  him  study 

1  the  lawyers'  cases ;  so  every  defect  of  the  mind  may 

yiave  a  special  receipt. 

1  "Studies  become  habits." 

2  "Splitters  of  cummin-seeds;"  or,  as  we  now  say,  "splitters 
of  straws,"  or  "hairs."    Butler  says  of  Hudibras  :  — 

"He  could  distinguish  and  divide 
A  hair  'twixt  south  and  southwest  side." 


OF  FACTION.  260 


LI.  — OF  FACTION. 

Many  have  an  opinion  not  wise,  that  for  a  prince 
to  govern  his  estate,  or  for  a  great  person  to  govern 
his  proceedings,  according  to  the  respect  of  factions, 
is  a  principal  part  of  policy ;  whereas,  contrariwise, 
the  chiefest  wisdom  is,  either  in  ordering  those 
things  which  are  general,  and  wherein  men  of  sev- 
eral factions  do  nevertheless  agree,  or  in  dealing 
with  correspondence  to  particular  persons,  one  by 
one;  but  I  say  not,  that  the  consideration  of  fac- 
tions is  to  be  neglected.  Mean  men  in  their  rising 
must  adhere ;  but  great  men,  that  have  strength  in 
tliemselves,  were  better  to  maintain  themselves  in- 
different and  neutral;  yet,  even  in  beginners,  to 
adhere  so  moderately,  as  he  be  a  man  of  the  one 
faction,  which  is  most  passable  with  the  other,  com- 
monly giveth  best  way.  The  lower  and  weaker 
faction  is  the  firmer  in  conjunction ;  and  it  is  often 
seen,  that  a  few  that  are  stiff,  do  tire  out  a  great 
number  that  are  more  moderate.  When  one  of  the 
factions  is  extinguished,  the  remaining  subdivideth ; 
as  the  faction  between  LucuUus  and  the  rest  of  the 
nobles  of  the  senate  (which  they  called  "opti- 
mates"),  held  out  a  while  against  the  faction  of 
Pompey  and  Caesar;  but  when  the  senate's  au- 
thority was  pulled  down,  Csesar  and  Pompey  soon 
after  brake.     The  faction  or  party  of  Antonius  and 


270  ESSAYS. 

Octavianus  Csesar,  against  Brutus  and  Cassius,  held 
out  like^Wse  for  a  time ;  but  when  Brutus  and  Cas- 
sius were  overthrown,  then  soon  after  Antonius 
and  Octavianus  brake  and  subdivided.  These  ex- 
amples are  of  wars,  but  the  same  holdeth  in  private 
factions ;  and,  therefore,  those  that  are  seconds  in  fac- 
tions do  many  times,  when  the  faction  subdivideth, 
prove  principals ;  but  many  times  also  they  prove 
ciphers,  and  cashiered,  for  many  a  man's  strength  is 
in  opposition ;  and  when  that  faileth,  he  groweth 
out  of  use.  It  is  commonly  seen,  that  men  once 
placed,  take  in  with  the  contrary  faction  to  that  by 
which  they  enter;  thinking,  belike,  that  they  have 
the  first  sure,  and  now  are  ready  for  a  new  pur- 
chase. The  traitor  in  faction  lightly  goeth  away 
with  it;  for  when  matters  have  stuck  long  in  bal- 
ancing, the  winning  of  some  one  man  casteth  them,^ 
and  he  getteth  all  the  thanks.  The  even  carriage 
between  two  factions  proceedeth  not  always  of  mod- 
eration, but  of  a  trueness  to  a  man's  self,  with  end  to 
make  use  of  both.  Certainly,  in  Italy,  they  hold  it  a 
little  suspect  in  popes,  when  they  have  often  in  their 
mouth,  "  Padre  commune ; "  ^  and  take  it  to  be  a 
sign  of  one  that  meaneth  to  refer  all  to  the  great- 
ness of  his  own  house.  Kings  had  need  beware 
how  they  side  themselves,  and  make  themselves  as 
of  a  faction  or  party ;  for  leagues  within  the  state 
are  ever  pernicious  to  monarchies ;  for  they  raise  an 
obligation  paramount  to   obligation  of  sovereignty, 

>  Causes  one  side  to  preponderate.      '  "The  common  father." 


OF  CEREMONIES  AND  RESPECTS.        271 

and  make  the  king  "tanquara  unus  ex  nobis,"  ^  as 
was  to  be  seen  in  the  League  of  France.  When 
factions  are  carried  too  high  and  too  violently,  it  is 
a  sign  of  weakness  in  princes,  and  much  to  the 
prejudice  both  of  their  authority  and  business.  The 
motions  of  factions  under  kings,  ought  to  be  like  the 
motions  (as  the  astronomers  speak)  of  the  inferior 
orbs,  which  may  have  their  proper  motions,  but  yet 
still  are  quietly  carried  by  the  higher  motion  of 
"  prinmm  mobile."  ^ 


LIL  — OF  CEREMONIES  AND  RESPECTS. 

He  that  is  only  real,  had  need  have  exceeding 
great  parts  of  virtue  ;  as  the  stone  had  need  to  be 
rich  that  is  set  without  foil ;  but  if  a  man  mark  it 
well,  it  is  in  praise  and  commendation  of  men,  as 
it  is  in  gettings  and  gains ;  for  the  proverb  is  true, 
that  "  Light  gains  make  heavy  purses ; "  for  light 
gains  come  thick,  whereas  great  come  but  now  and 
then.  So  it  is  true,  that  small  matters  win  great 
commendation,  because  they  are  continually  in  use 
and  in  note ;  whereas  the  occasion  of  any  great 
virtue  cometh  but  on  festivals ;    therefore  it   doth 

1  "  As  one  of  us."  Henry  the  Third  of  France,  favoring  the 
league  formed  by  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  Cardinal  Do  Lon-aine 
against  the  Protestants,  soon  found  that,  through  the  adoption 
of  that  policy,  he  had  forfeited  the  respect  of  his  subjects. 

*  Soe  a  note  to  Essay  15. 


272  ESSAYS. 

much  add  to  a  man's  reputation,  and  is  (as  Queen 
Isabella  ^  said)  like  perpetual  letters  commendatory, 
to  have  good  forms.  To  attain  them,  it  almost 
sufRceth  not  to  despise  them ;  for  so  shall  a  man 
observe  them  in  others ;  and  let  him  trust  himself 
with  the  rest;  for  if  he  labor  too  much  to  express 
them,  he  shall  lose  their  grace,  which  is  to  be  natu- 
ral and  unaffected.  Some  men's  behavior  is  like  a 
verse,  wherein  every  syllable  is  measured ;  how  can 
a  man  comprehend  great  matters,  that  breaketh  his 
mind  too  much  to  small  observations  ?  Not  to  use 
ceremonies  at  all,  is  to  teach  others  not  to  use  them 
again,  and  so  diminisheth  respect  to  himself;  es- 
pecially they  be  not  to  be  omitted  to  strangers  and 
formal  natures  ;  but  the  dwelling  upon  them,  and 
exalting  them  above  the  moon,  is  not  only  tedious, 
but  doth  diminish  the  faith  and  credit  of  him  that 
speaks ;  and,  certainly,  there  is  a  kind  of  conveying 
of  effectual  and  imprinting  passages  amongst  com- 
pliments, which  is  of  singular  use,  if  a  man  can  hit 
upon  it.  Amongst  a  man's  peers,  a  man  shall  be 
sure  of  familiarity,  and,  therefore,  it  is  good  a  little 
to  keep  state  ;  amongst  a  man's  inferiors,  one  shall 
be  sure  of  reverence,  and  therefore  it  is  good  a  little 
to  be  familiar.  He  that  is  too  much  in  any  thing, 
so  that  he  giveth  another  occasion  of  satiety,  maketli 
himself  cheap.  To  apply  one's  self  to  others,  is 
good,  so  it  be  with  demonstration  that  a  man  doth 

1  Of  Castile.     She  was  the  wife  of  Ferdinand  of  Arragon,  and 
was  the  patroness  of  Columbus. 


OF  PRAISE.  273 

it  upon  regard,  and  not  upon  facility.  It  is  a  good 
precept,  generally  in  seconding  another,  yet  to  add 
somewhat  of  one's  own ;  as,  if  you  will  grant  his 
opinion,  let  it  be  with  some  distinction ;  if  you  will 
follow  his  motion,  let  it  be  with  condition ;  if  you 
allow  his  counsel,  let  it  be  with  alleging  further  rea- 
son. IVIen  had  need  beware  how  they  be  too  perfect 
in  compliments ;  for  be  they  never  so  sufficient  oth- 
erwise, their  enviers  will  be  sure  to  give  them  that 
attribute  to  the  disadvantage  of  their  greater  vir- 
tues. It  is  loss,  also,  in  business,  to  be  too  full  of 
respects,  or  to  be  too  curious  in  observing  times  and 
opportunities.  Solomon  saith,  "He  that  consider- 
eth  the  wind  shall  not  sow,  and  he  that  looketh  to 
the  clouds  shall  not  reap."  ^  A  wise  man  will  make 
more  opportunities  than  he  finds.  Men's  behavior 
should  be  like  their  apparel,  not  too  strait  or  point 
device,^  but  free  for  exercise  or  motion. 


LIII.  — OF  PRAISE. 

Praise  is  the  reflection  of  virtue ;  but  it  is  glass, 
or  body,  which  giveth  the  reflection.  If  it  be  from 
the  common  people,  it  is  commonly  false  and  naught, 

^  The  words  in  our  version  are :  "He  that  observeth  the  wind 
shall  not  sow,  and  he  that  regardeth  the  clouds  shall  not  reap.  — 
Ecclesiastes  xL  1. 

2  Exact  in  the  extreme.  Point-de-vice  was  originally  the 
name  of  a  kind  of  lace  of  very  fine  pattern. 

18 


274  ESSAYS. 

and  rather  followeth  vain  persons  than  virtuous ;  for 
the  common  people  understand  not  many  excellent 
virtues.  The  lowest  virtues  draw  praise  from  them, 
the  middle  virtues  work  in  them  astonishment  or 
admiration,  but  of  the  highest  virtues  they  have  no 
sense  or  perceiving  at  all;  but  shows  and  "species 
virtutibus  similes,"  ^  serve  best  with  them.  Cer- 
tainly, fame  is  like  a  river,  that  beareth  up  things 
light  and  swollen,  and  drowns  things  weighty  and 
solid;  but  if  persons  of  quality  and  judgment  con- 
cur, then  it  is  (as  the  Scripture  saith),  "Nomen 
bonum  instar  unguenti  fragrantis : ''  ^  it  filleth  all 
round  about,  and  will  not  easily  away ;  for  the  odors 
of  ointments  are  more  durable  than  those  of  flowers. 
There  be  so  many  false  points  of  praise,  that  a  man 
may  justly  hold  it  a  suspect.  Some  praises  proceed 
merely  of  flattery ;  and  if  he  be  an  ordinary  flatterer, 
he  will  have  certain  common  attributes,  which  may 
serve  every  man ;  if  he  be  a  cunning  flatterer,  he 
will  follow  the  arch-flatterer,  which  is  a  man's  self, 
and  wherein  a  man  thinketh  best  of  himself,  therein 
the  flatterer  will  uphold  him  most.  But  if  he  be  an 
impudent  flatterer,  look  wherein  a  man  is  conscious 
to  himself  that  he  is  most  defective,  and  is  most  out 
of  countenance  in  himself,  that  will  the  flatterer  entitle 
him  to,  perforce,  "spretdconscientifi,"^    Some  praises 

^  "Appearances  resembling  virtues." 

^  "A  good  name  is  like  sweet-smelling  ointment."  The  words 
in  our  version  are,  "A  good  name  is  better  than  precious  ointment. 
—  JScclesiastes  vii.  1. 

*  "Disregarding  his  ovon  conscience." 


OF  PRAISE.  275 

come  of  good  mshes  and  respects,  which  is  a  form 
due  in  civility  to  kings  and  great  persons,  "  laudando 
prsecipere ;  "  ^  when,  by  telling  men  what  they  are, 
they  represent  to  them  what  they  should  be ;  some 
men  are  praised  maliciously  to  their  hurt,  thereby 
to  stir  envy  and  jealousy  towards  them :  "  Pessi- 
mum  genus  inimicorum  laudantium ;  "  ^  insomuch 
as  it  was  a  proverb  amongst  the  Grecians,  that 
"  he  that  was  praised  to  his  hurt,  should  have  a 
push  ^  rise  upon  his  nose ; "  as  we  say  that  a  blister 
will  rise  upon  one's  tongue  that  tells  a  lie  ;  cer- 
tainly, moderate  praise,  used  with  opportunity,  and 
not  vulgar,  is  that  which  doth  the  good.  Solomon 
saith :  "  He  that  praiseth  his  friend  aloud,  rising 
early,  it  shall  be  to  him  no  better  than  a  curse."* 
Too  much  magnifying  of  man  or  matter  doth  irri- 
tate contradiction,  and  procure  envy  and  scorn. 
To  praise  a  man's  self  cannot  be  decent,  except  it 
be  in  rare  cases ;  but  to  praise  a  man's  office  ^  or 
profession,  he  may  do  it  with  good  grace,  and  with 
a  kind  of  magnanimity.  The  cardinals  of  Rome, 
which  are  theologues,^  and   friars,  and   schoolmen, 

^  "To  instruct  under  the  form  of  praise." 

2  "The  worst  kind  of  enemies  are  those  who  flatter." 

*  A  pimple  filled  with  "pus,"or  "purulent  matter."  The  word 
is  still  used  in  the  east  of  England. 

*  The  words  in  our  version  are  :  "  He  that  blesseth  his  friend 
with  a  loud  voice,  rising  early  in  the  morning,  it  shall  be  counted 
a  curse  to  him." —  Proverbs  xxvii.  14. 

^  In  other  words,  to  show  what  we  call  an  esprit  de  corps. 
8  Theologians. 


276  ESSAYS. 

have  a  phrase  of  notable  contempt  and  scorn  towards 
civil  business ;  for  they  call  all  temporal  business  of 
wars,  embassages,  judicature,  and  other  employments, 
sbirrerie,  which  is  under-sheriflfries,  as  if  they  were 
but  matters  for  under-sheriffs  and  catchpoles ;  though 
many  times  those  under-sheriffries  do  more  good  than 
their  high  speculations.  St.  Paul,  when  he  boasts 
of  himself,  he  doth  oft  interlace,  "  I  speak  like  a 
fool : "  ^  but  speaking  of  his  calling,  he  saith,  "  Mag- 
nificabo  apostolatum  meum."'* 


LIV.  — OF  VAINGLORY. 

It  was  prettily  devised  of  jEsop,  the  fly  sat  upon 
the  axle-tree  of  the  chariot-wheel,  and  said,  "  What 
a  dust  do  I  raise  ! "  So  are  there  some  vain  persons, 
that,  whatsoever  goeth  alone,  or  moveth  upon  greater 
means,  if  they  have  never  so  little  hand  in  it,  they 
think  it  is  they  that  carry  it.  They  that  are  glorious, 
must  needs  be  factious ;  for  all  bravery  ^  stands  upon 
comparisons.  They  must  needs  be  violent,  to  make 
good  their  own  vaunts ;  neither  can  they  be  secret, 
and  therefore  not  effectual;  but,  according  to  the 

1  2  Cor.  xi.  23. 

'  "  I  will  magnify  my  apostleship."  He  alludes  to  the  words 
in  Romans  xi.  13  :  "  Inasmuch  as  I  am  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles, 
I  magnify  mine  oflSce." 

•  Vaunting,  or  boasting. 


OF  VAINGLORY.  277 

French  proverb,  "  Beaucoup  de  bruit,  peu  de  fruit ; " 
— "  much  bruit,^  little  fruit."  Yet,  certainly,  there 
is  use  of  this  quality  in  civil  affairs :  where  there  is 
an  opinion  ^  and  fame  to  be  created,  either  of  virtue 
or  greatness,  these  men  are  good  trumpeters.  Again, 
as  Titus  Livius  noteth,  in  the  case  of  Antiochus  and 
the  yEtolians,^  there  are  sometimes  great  effects  of 
cross  lies;  as  if  a  man  that  negotiates  between  two 
princes,  to  draw  them  to  join  in  a  war  against  the 
third,  doth  extol  the  forces  of  either  of  them  above 
measure,  the  one  to  the  other;  and  sometimes  he 
that  deals  between  man  and  man,  raiseth  his  own 
credit  with  both,  by  pretending  greater  interest  than 
he  hath  in  either;  and  in  these,  and  the  like 
kinds,  it  often  falls  out,  that  somewhat  is  produced 
of  nothing;  for  lies  are  sufficient  to  breed  opinion, 
and  opinion  brings  on  substance.  In  military  com- 
manders and  soldiers,  vainglory  is  an  essential  point ; 
for  as  iron  sharpens  iron,  so  by  glory  one  courage 
sharpeneth  another.  In  cases  of  great  enterprise 
upon  charge*  and  adventure,  a  composition  of  glo- 
rious natures  doth  put  life  into  business ;  and  those 
that  are  of  solid  and  sober  natures,  have  more  of  the 
ballast  than  of  the  sail.  In  fame  of  learning,  the 
flight  will  be  slow  without  some  feathers  of  osten- 
tation :  "  Qui  de  contemnend^  gloria  libros  scribunt, 

*  Noise.     We  have  a  corresponding  proverb  :   *'  Great  cry  and 
little  wool." 

2  A  high  or  good  opinion.  •  Vide  Liv.  xxxvii.  48. 

*  By  express  command. 


278  ESSAYS. 

nomen  suum  inscribimt."  ^  Socrates,  Aristotle,  Galen, 
were  men  full  of  ostentation :  certainly,  vainglory 
helpeth  to  perpetuate  a  man's  memory ;  and  virtue 
was  never  so  beholden  to  human  nature,  as  it  received 
its  due  at  the  second  hand.  Neither  had  the  fame 
of  Cicero,  Seneca,  Plinius  Secundus,^  borne  her  age 
so  well  if  it  had  not  been  joined  with  some  vanity 
in  themselves ;  like  unto  vaniish,  that  makes  ceilings 
not  only  shine,  but  last.  But  all  this  while,  when  I 
speak  of  vainglory,  I  mean  not  of  that  property 
that  Tacitus  doth  attribute  to  Mucianus,  "  Omnium, 
quse  dixerat  feceratque,  arte  quMam  ostentator ; "  ^ 
for  that*  proceeds  not  of  vanity,  but  of  natural 
magnanimity  and  discretion  ;  and,  in  some  persons, 
is  not  only  comely,  but  gracious;  for  excusations,^ 
cessions,^  modesty  itself,  well  governed,  are  but  arts 
of  ostentation  ;  and  amongst  those  arts  there  is  none 
better  than  that  which  Plinius  Secundus  speaketh 

1  "Those  who  write  books  on  despising  glory,  set  their  names 
in  the  title-page."  He  quotes  from  Cicero's  "Tusculanse  Dis- 
putationes,"  b.  i.  c.  15,  whose  words  are;  "Quid  nostii  philoso- 
phi  ?  Nonue  in  his  libris  ipsis,  quos  scribunt  de  contemnend& 
glorid,  sua  nomina  inscribunt."  —  "What  do  our  philosophers  do  ? 
Do  they  not,  in  those  very  books  which  they  write  on  despising 
glory,  set  their  names  in  the  title-page  ? " 

^  Pliny  the  Younger,  the  nephew  of  the  elder  Pliny,  the  natu- 
ralist. 

8  "One  who  set  off  every  thing  he  said  and  did  with  a  certain 
skill."  Mucianus  was  an  intriguing  general  in  the  times  of  Otho 
and  Vitellius.  —  Hi<it.  xi.  80. 

*  Namely,  the  property  of  which  he  was  speaking,  and  not  that 
mentioned  by  Tacitus. 

^  Apologies.  •  Concessions. 


OF  HONOR  AND  REPUTATION.  279 

of,  which  is  to  be  liberal  of  praise  and  commenda- 
tion to  others,  in  that  wherein  a  man's  self  hath  any 
perfection.  For,  saith  Pliny,  very  wittily,  "  In  com- 
mending another,  you  do  yourself  right ; "  *  for  he 
that  you  commend  is  either  superior  to  you  in  that 
you  commend,  or  inferior :  if  he  be  inferior,  if  he  be 
to  be  commended,  you  much  more ;  if  he  be  superior, 
if  he  be  not  to  be  commended,  you  much  less." 
Glorious  2  men  are  the  scorn  of  wise  men,  the 
admiration  of  fools,  the  idols  of  parasites,  and  the 
slaves  of  their  own  vaunts. 


LV.  — OF  HONOR  AND  REPUTATION. 

The  winning  of  honor  is  but  the  revealing  of  a 
man's  virtue  and  worth  without  disadvantage ;  for 
some  in  their  actions  do  woo  and  affect  honor  and 
reputation  ;  which  sort  of  men  are  commonly  much 
talked  of,  but  inwardly  little  admired;  and  some, 
contrariwise,  darken  their  virtue  in  the  show  of  it,  so 
as  they  be  undervalued  in  opinion.  If  a  man  per- 
form that  which  hath  not  been  attempted  before, 
or  attempted  and  given  over,  or  hath  been  achieved, 
but  not  with  so  good  circumstance,  he  shall  purchase 
more  honor  than  by  affecting  a  matter  of  greater 
difficulty  or  virtue,  wherein  he  is  but  a  follower. 
If  a  man  so  temper  his  actions,  as  in  some  one  of 

1  Plin.  Epist.  vi.  17.  *  Boastful. 


280  ESSAYS. 

them  he  doth  content  every  faction  or  combination 
of  people,  the  music  will  be  the  fuller.  A  man  is 
an  ill  husband  of  his  honor  that  entereth  into  any 
action,  the  failing  wherein  may  disgrace  him  more 
than  the  carrying  of  it  through  can  honor  him. 
Honor  that  is  gained  and  broken  upon  another 
hath  the  quickest  reflection,  like  diamonds  cut  with 
facets  ;  and  therefore  let  a  man  contend  to  excel  any 
competitors  of  his  in  honor,  in  outshooting  them,  if 
he  can,  in  their  own  bow.  Discreet  followers  and 
servants  help  much  to  reputation :  "  Omnis  fama  a 
domesticis  emanat."  ^  Envy,  which  is  the  canker  of 
honor,  is  best  extinguished  by  declaring  a  man's  self 
in  his  ends,  rather  to  seek  merit  than  fame ;  and  by 
attributing  a  man's  successes  rather  to  Divine  provi- 
dence and  felicity,  than  to  his  own  virtue  or  policy. 
The  true  marshalling  of  the  degrees  of  sovereign 
honor  are  these.  In  the  first  place  are  "  condi- 
tores  imperiorum,"  ^  founders  of  states  and  common- 
wealths ;  such  as  were  Romulus,  Cyrus,  Caesar,  Otto- 
man,2  Ismael:  in  the  second  place  are  "  legislatores," 
lawgivers,  which  are  also  called  second  founders,  or 
"  perpetui  principes,"  *  because  they  govern  by  their 

^  "  All  fame  emanates  from  servants,"  —  Q.  Cic.  de  Petit,  Consul, 
V.  17. 

2  "Founders  of  empires." 

8  He  alludes  to  Ottoman,  or  Othman  I.,  the  founder  of  the 
dynasty  now  reigning  at  Constantinople.  From  him,  the  Turkish 
empire  received  the  appellation  of  "  Othoman,"  or  "Ottoman" 
Porte. 

*  "Perpetual  rulers." 


OF  HONOR  AND  REPUTATION.         281 

ordinances  after  they  are  gone ;  such  were  Lycurgus, 
Solon,  Justinian,  Edgar,^  Alphonsus  of  Castile,  the 
Wise,  that  made  tlie  "  Siete  Partidas : "  ^  in  the 
third  place  are  "  liberatores,"  or  "  salvatores,"  ^  such 
as  compound  the  long  miseries  of  civil  wars,  or 
deliver  their  countries  from  servitude  of  strangers  or 
tyrants,  as  Augustus  Caesar,  Vespasianus,  Aurelia- 
nus,  Theodoricus,  King  Henry  the  Seventh  of  Eng- 
land, King  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France:  in  the 
fourth  place  are  "  propagatores,"  or  "  propugnatores 
imperii,"*  such  as  in  honorable  wars  enlarge  their 
territories,  or  make  noble  defence  against  invaders : 
and,  in  the  last  place  are  "  patres  patriae,"  ^  which 
reign  justly,  and  make  the  times  good  wherein  they 
live ;  both  which  last  kinds  need  no  examples,  they 
are  in  such  number.  Degrees  of  honor  in  subjects 
are,  first,  "  participes  curarum,"^  those  upon  whom 

*  Surnamed  the  Peaceful,  who  ascended  the  throne  of  England 
A.  D.  959.  He  was  eminent  as  a  legislator,  and  a  rigid  assertor 
of  justice.  Hume  considers  his  reign  "  one  of  the  most  fortunate 
that  we  meet  with  in  the  ancient  English  history." 

2  These  were  a  general  collection  of  the  Spanish  laws,  made 
by  Alphonso  X.  of  Castile,  arranged  under  their  proper  titles. 
The  work  was  commenced  by  Don  Ferdinand  his  father,  to  put 
an  end  to  the  contradictory  decisions  in  the  Castilian  courts  of 
justice.  It  was  divided  into  seven  parts,  whence  its  name  "  Siete 
Partidas."  It  did  not,  however,  become  the  law  of  Castile  till 
nearly  eighty  years  after. 

8  "  Deliverers,"  or  "preservers." 

*  "  Extenders,"  or  "  defenders  of  the  empire." 
6  "  Fathers  of  their  coimtry." 

6  "  Participators  in  cares." 


282  ESSAYS. 

princes  do  discharge  the  greatest  weight  of  their 
affairs,  their  right  hands,  as  we  call  them ;  the  next 
are  "  duces  belli,"  ^  great  leaders,  such  as  are  princes' 
lieutenants,  and  do  them  notable  services  in  the 
wars ;  the  third  are  "  gratiosi,"  favorites,  such  as 
exceed  not  this  scantling,^  to  be  solace  to  the  sove- 
reign, and  harmless  to  the  people;  and  the  fourth, 
"  negotiis  pares,"  ^  such  as  have  great  places  under 
princes,  and  execute  their  places  with  sufficiency. 
There  is  an  honor,  likewise,  which  may  be  ranked 
amongst  the  greatest,  which  happen  eth  rarely ;  that 
is,  of  such  as  sacrifice  themselves  to  death  or  danger 
for  the  good  of  their  countiy ;  as  was  M.  Regulus, 
and  the  two  Decii. 


LVL  — OF  JUDICATURE. 

Judges  ought  to  remember  that  their  office  is 
"jus  dicere,"^  and  not  "jus  dare;"^  to  interpret 
law,  and  not  to  make  law,  or  give  law ;  else  will  it 
be  like  the  authority  claimed  by  the  Church  of 
Rome,  which,  under  pretext  of  exposition  of  Scrip- 
ture, doth  not  stick  to  add  and  alter,  and  to  pro- 
nounce that  which  they  do  not  find,  and,  by  show 
of  antiquity,  to  introduce  novelty.     Judges  ought  to 

1  "  Leaders  in  war."  2  Proportion,  dimensions. 

3  ♦' Equal  to  their  duties."  "  "  To  expound  the  law." 

'  "  To  make  the  law.  " 


OF  JUDICATURE.  283 

be  more  learned  than  witty,  more  reverend  than 
plausible,  and  more  advised  than  confident.  Above 
all  things,  integrity  is  their  portion  and  proper 
virtue.  "  Cursed  (saith  the  law)  ^  is  he  that  remov- 
eth  the  landmark."  The  mislayer  of  a  mere  stone 
is  to  blame  ;  but  it  is  the  unjust  judge  that  is  the 
capital  remover  of  landmarks,  when  he  defineth 
amiss  of  lands  and  property.  One  foul  sentence 
doth  more  hurt  than  many  foul  examples ;  for 
these  do  but  corrupt  the  stream,  the  other  corrupt- 
eth  the  fountain  :  so  saith  Solomon,  "  Fons  turba- 
tus  et  vena  corrupta  est  Justus  cadens  in  caus^  su^ 
coram  adversario."  ^  The  office  of  judges  may  have 
reference  unto  the  parties  that  sue,  unto  the  advo- 
cates that  plead,  unto  the  clerks  and  ministers  of 
justice  underneath  them,  and  to  the  sovereign  or 
state  above  them. 

First,  for  the  causes  or  parties  that  sue.  "  There 
be  (saith  the  Scripture)  that  turn  judgment  into 
wormwood  ;  "  ^  and  surely  there  be,  also,  that  turn 
it  into  vinegar ;  for  injustice  maketh  it  bitter,  and 
delays  make  it  sour.  The  principal  duty  of  a  judge 
is  to  suppress  force  and  fraud ;  whereof  force  is  the 
more  pernicious  when  it  is  open,  and  fraud  when  it 

1  The  Mosaic  law.  He  alludes  to  Deuteronomy  xxvii.  17. 
"  Cursed  be  he  that  removeth  his  neighbor's  landmark." 

*  "  A  righteous  man  falling  down  before  the  wicked  is  as  a 
troubled  fountain  and  a  corrupt  spring."  —  Proverbs  xxv.  26. 

'  "Ye  who  turn  judgment  to  wormwood,  and  leave  off  righteou8« 
ness  in  the  earth."  —  Amos  v.  7 


284  ESSAYS. 

is  close  and  disguised.  Add  thereto  contentious 
suits,  which  ought  to  be  spewed  out,  as  the  surfeit 
of  courts.  A  judge  ought  to  prepare  his  way  to  a 
just  sentence,  as  God  useth  to  prepare  his  way,  by 
raising  valleys  and  taking  down  hills ;  so  when  there 
appeareth  on  either  side  a  high  hand,  violent  pro- 
secution, cunning  advantages  taken,  combination, 
power,  great  counsel,  then  is  the  virtue  of  a  judge 
seen  to  make  inequality  equal,  that  he  may  plant 
his  judgment  as  upon  an  even  ground.  "  Qui  for- 
titer  emungit,  elicit  sanguinem ; "  ^  and  where  the 
wdne-press  is  hard  wrought,  it  yields  a  harsh  wine, 
that  tastes  of  the  grape-stone.  Judges  must  beware 
of  hard  constructions  and  strained  inferences  ;  for 
there  is  no  worse  torture  than  the  torture  of  laws. 
Especially  in  case  of  laws  penal,  they  ought  to  have 
care  that  that  which  was  meant  for  terror  be  not 
turned  into  rigor ;  and  that  they  bring  not  upon  the 
people  that  shower  whereof  the  Scripture  speaketh, 
"  Pluet  super  eos  laqueos ;  "  ^  for  penal  laws  pressed,^ 
are  a  shower  of  snares  upon  the  people.  Therefore 
let  penal  laws,  if  they  have  been  sleepers  of  long,  or 
if  they  be  grown  unfit  for  the  present  time,  be  by 

^  "  He  who  wrings  the  nose  strongly  brings  blood,"  Proverbs 
XXX.  33:  "Surely,  the  eliurning  of  milk  bringeth  forth  butter,  and 
the  wringing  of  the  nose  bringeth  forth  blood;  so  the  forcing  of 
wrath  bringeth  forth  strife." 

2  ♦'  He  will  rain  snares  upon  them."  Psalm  xi.  6:  "Upon  the 
wicked  he  shall  rain  snares,  fire,  and  brimstone,  and  an  horrible 
tempest." 

•  Strained. 


OF  JUDICATURE.  285 

wise  judges  confined  in  the  execution:  "Judicis 
officium  est,  ut  res,  ita  tempora  rerum,"  &c.^  In 
causes  of  life  and  death,  judges  ought  (as  far  as  the 
law  permitteth)  in  justice  to  remember  mercy,  and 
to  cast  a  severe  eye  upon  the  example,  but  a  merci- 
ful eye  upon  the  person. 

Secondly,  for  the  advocates  and  counsel  that  plead. 
Patience  ^  and  gravity  of  hearing  is  an  essential  part 
of  justice,  and  an  overspeakiug  judge  is  no  well- 
tuned  cymbal.  It  is  no  grace  to  a  judge  first  to 
find  that  which  he  might  have  heard  in  due  time 
from  the  bar;  or  to  show  quickness  of  conceit  in 
cutting  off  evidence  or  counsel  too  short,  or  to  pre- 
vent information  by  questions,  though  pertinent. 
Tiie  parts  of  a  judge  in  hearing  are  four :  to  direct 
the  evidence ;  to  moderate  length,  repetition,  or 
impertinency  of  speech  ;  to  recapitulate,  select,  and 
collate  the  material  points  of  that  which  hath  been 
said  ;  and  to  give  the  rule  or  sentence.  Whatsoever 
is  above  these  is  too  much,  and  proceedeth  either  of 
glory,  and  willingness  to  speak,  or  of  impatience  to 
hear,  or  of  shortness  of  memory,  or  of  want  of  a 
staid  and  equal  attention.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to 
see  that  the  boldness  of  advocates  should  prevail 
with  judges ;  whereas,  they  should  imitate  God  in 
whose  seat   they  sit,  who  represseth  the  presump- 

1  "  It  is  the  duty  of  a  judge  to  consider  not  only  the  facts,  but 
the  circumstances  of  the  case." —  Ovid.  Trist.  I.  i.  37. 

'■'  Pliny  the  Younger,  Ep.  B.  6,  E.  2,  has  the  observation: 
**  Patientiam  .  .  .  quse  pars  magna  justitiae  est;"  "Patience, 
which  is  a  great  part  of  justice." 


286  ESSAYS. 

tuous,  and  giveth  grace  to  the  modest ;  but  it  is  more 
strange,  that  judges  should  have  noted  favorites, 
which  cannot  but  cause  multiplication  of  fees,  and 
suspicion  of  by-ways.  There  is  due  from  the  judge 
to  the  advocate  some  commendation  and  gracing, 
where  causes  are  well  handled  and  fair  pleaded, 
especially  towards  the  side  which  obtaineth  not ;  ^ 
for  that  upholds  in  the  client  the  reputation  of  his 
counsel,  and  beats  down  in  him  the  conceit'^  of  his 
cause.  There  is  likewise  due  to  the  public  a  civil 
reprehension  of  advocates,  where  there  appeareth 
cunning  counsel,  gross  neglect,  slight  information, 
indiscreet  pressing,  or  an  over-bold  defence ;  and 
let  not  the  counsel  at  the  bar  chop  ^  with  the  judge, 
nor  wind  himself  into  the  handling  of  the  cause 
anew  after  the  judge  hath  declared  his  sentence; 
but,  on  the  other  side,  let  not  the  judge  meet  the 
cause  half-way,  nor  give  occasion  to  the  party  to  say, 
his  counsel  or  proofs  were  not  heard. 

Thirdly,  for  that  that  concerns  clerks  and  minis- 
ters- The  place  of  justice  is  a  hallowed  place  ;  and, 
therefore,  not  only  the  bench,  but  the  foot-pace 
and  precincts,  and  purprise  thereof,  ought  to  be 
preserved  without  scandal  and  corruption ;  for,  cer- 
tainly, "Grapes  (as  the  Scripture  saith)  will  not  be 
gathered  of  thorns  or  thistles ; "  *  neither  can  justice 

^  Is  not  successful. 

2  Makes  him  to  feel  less  confident  of  the  goodness  of  his  cause. 
8  Altercate,  or  bandy  words  with  the  judge. 
*  • '  Do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles  !  "  —  8L 
Maithew  vii.  16. 


OF  JUDICATURE.  287 

yield  her  fruit  with  sweetness  amongst  the  briers 
and  brambles  of  catching  and  polling^  clerks  and 
ministers.  The  attendance  of  courts  is  subject  to 
four  bad  instruments :  first,  certain  persons  that  are 
sowers  of  suits,  which  make  the  court  swell,  and  the 
country  pine :  the  second  sort  is  of  those  that  engage 
courts  in  quarrels  of  jurisdiction,  and  are  not  truly 
"amici  curiae,"^  but  "parasiti  curiae,"^  in  puffing  a 
court  up  beyond  her  bounds  for  their  own  scraps 
and  advantage :  the  third  sort  is  of  those  that  may 
be  accounted  the  left  hands  of  courts ;  persons  that 
are  full  of  nimble  and  sinister  tricks  and  shifts, 
whereby  they  pervert  the  plain  and  direct  courses 
of  courts,  and  bring  justice  into  oblique  lines  and 
labyrinths :  and  the  fourth  is  the  poller  and  exacter 
of  fees ;  which  justifies  the  common  resemblance  of 
the  courts  of  justice  to  the  bush,  whereunto  while 
the  sheep  flies  for  defence  in  weather,  he  is  sure 
to  lose  part  of  his  fleece.  On  the  other  side,  an 
ancient  clerk,  skilful  in  precedents,  wary  in  pro- 
ceeding, and  understanding  in  the  business  of  the 
court,  is  an  excellent  finger  of  a  court,  and  doth 
many  times  point  the  way  to  the  judge  himself. 

Fourthly,  for  that  which  may  concern  the  sover- 
eign and  estate.  Judges  ought,  above  all,  to  re- 
member the  conclusion  of  the  Roman  Twelve  Ta- 
bles,^ "  Salus  populi  suprema  lex ; "  ^  and  to  know 

1  Plundering.  2  "  Friends  of  the  court." 

•  "Parasites,"  or  "flatterers  of  the  court." 

•  Which  were  compiled  hy  the  deteravirs. 

6  "  The  safety  of  the  people  is  the  supreme  law." 


288  ESSAYS. 

that  laws,  except  they  be  in  order  to  that  end,  are 
but  things  captious,  and  oracles  not  well  inspired; 
therefore  it  is  a  happy  thing  in  a  state,  when  kings 
and  states  do  often  consult  with  judges ;  and  again, 
when  judges  do  often  consult  with  the  king  and 
state :  the  one,  when  there  is  matter  of  law  iuter- 
venient  in  business  of  state;  the  other,  when  there 
is  some  consideration  of  state  intervenient  in  matter 
of  law ;  for  many  times  the  things  deduced  to  judg- 
ment may  be  "meum'^  and  "tuum,"^  when  the 
reason  and  consequence  thereof  may  trench  to  point 
of  estate.  I  call  matter  of  estate,  not  only  the  parts 
of  sovereignty,  but  whatsoever  introduceth  any  great 
alteration,  or  dangerous  precedent,  or  concerneth 
manifestly  any  great  portion  of  people  ;  and  let  no 
man  weakly  conceive,  that  just  laws  and  true  policy 
have  any  antipathy,  for  they  are  like  the  spirits  and 
sinews,  that  one  moves  with  the  other.  Let  judges 
also  remember,  that  Solomon's  throne  was  supported 
by  lions  ^  on  both  sides ;  let  them  be  lions,  but  yet 
lions  under  the  throne,  being  circumspect  that  they 
do  not  check  or  oppose  any  points  of  sovereignty. 
Let  not  judges  also  be  so  ignorant  of  their  own  right, 
as  to  think  there  is  not  left  to  them,  as  a  principal 

1  "Mine." 

2  "Yours," 

8  He  alludes  to  1  Kings  x.  19,  30  :  "The  throne  had  six  steps, 
and  the  top  of  the  throne  was  round  behind  ;  and  there  were  stays 
on  either  side  on  the  place  of  the  seat,  and  two  lions  stood  beside 
the  stays.  And  twelve  lions  stood  there  on  the  one  side  and  on  the 
other  upon  the  six  steps."  The  same  verses  are  repeated  in  1 
Chronicles  ix.  18,  19. 


OF  ANGER.  289 

part  of  their  office,  a  wise  use  and  application  of 
laws ;  for  they  may  remember  what  the  apostle  saith 
of  a  greater  law  than  theirs :  "  Nos  scimus  quia  lex 
bona  est,  modo  quis  e^  utatur  legitime."  ^ 


vC 


LVIL  — OF  ANGER. 

To  seek  to  extinguish  anger  utterly  is  but  a 
bravery 2  of  the  Stoics.  We  have  better  oracles: 
"Be  angry,  but  sin  not;  let  not  the  sun  go  down 
upon  your  anger."  ^  Anger  must  be  limited  and 
confined,  both  in  race  and  in  time.  We  will  first 
speak  how  the  natural  inclination  and  habit,  "to' 
be  angry,"  may  be  attempered  and  calmed ;  secondly, 
how  the  particular  motions  of  anger  may  be  repressed, 
or,  at  least,  refrained  from  doing  mischief;  thirdly, 
how  to  raise  anger,  or  appease  anger  in  another. 

For  the  first,  there  is  no  other  way  but  to  medi- 
tate and  ruminate  well  upon  the  effects  of  anger, 
how  it  troubles  man's  life ;  and  the  best  time  to  do 
this  is,  to  look  back  upon  anger  when  the  fit  is 
thoroughly  over.  Seneca  saith  well,  "that  anger 
is  like  ruin,  which  breaks  itself  upon  that  it  falls."  * 

1  "  We  know  that  the  law  is  good,  if  a  man  use  it  lawfully."  — 
1  Timothy  i.  8. 
a  A  boast. 

•  In  our  version  it  is  thus  rendered :  •'  Be  ye  angry,  and  sin  not ; 
let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath."  —  Epfiesians  iv.  26. 

*  Sen.  De  Ira  i.  1. 

19 


290  ESSAYS. 

The  Scripture  exhorteth  us  "  to  possess  our  souls  in 
patience;"^  whosoever  is  out  of  patience,  is  out  oi 
possession  of  his  soul.     Men  must  not  turn  bees  :  — 

"  animasque  in  vulnere  ponunt."  ' 

Anger  is  certainly  a  kind  of  baseness  ;  as  it  appears 
well  in  the  weakness  of  those  subjects  in  whom  it 
reigns,  children,  women,  old  folks,  sick  folks.  Only 
men  must  beware  that  they  carry  their  anger  rather 
with  scorn  than  with  fear ;  so  that  they  may  seem 
rather  to  be  above  the  injury  than  below  it ;  which 
is  a  thing  easily  done,  if  a  man  will  give  law  to 
himself  in  it. 

For  the  second  point,  the  causes  and  motives  of 
anger  are  chiefly  three.     First,  to  be  too  sensible  of 

o         — - — --     „r.  y ' 

hurt,  for  no  man  is  angry  that  feels  not  himself  hurt ; 
and  therefore  tender  and  delicate  persons  must  needs 
be  oft  angry,  they  have  so  many  things  to  trouble 
them,  which  more  robust  natures  have  little  sense 
of:  the  next  is,  the  apprehension  and  construction 
of  the  injury  offered,  to  be,  in  the  circumstances 
thereof,  full  of  contempt ;  for  contempt  is  that  which 
putteth  an  edge  upon  anger,  as  much,  or  more,  than 
the  hurt  itself ;  and  therefore,  when  men  are  ingen- 
ious in  picking  out  circumstances  of  contempt,  they 
do  kindle  their  anger  much :  lastly,  opinion  of  the 
touch  ^  of  a  man's    reputation    doth   multiply   and 

^  "  In  your  patience  possess  ye  your  souls."  —  Luke  xvi.  19. 
'  "And  leave  their  lives  in  the  wound."     The  quotation  is  from 
Virgil's  Georgics,  iv.  238. 
'  Susceptibility  upon. 


OF  ANGER.  291 

sharpen  anger ;  wherein  the  remedy  is,  that  a  man 
should  have,  as  Gonsalvo  was  wont  to  say,  "  Telam 
honoris  crassiorem."  *  But  in  all  refrainings  of 
anger,  it  is  the  best  remedy  to  win  time,  and  to 
make  a  man's  self  believe  that  the  opportunity  of 
his  revenge  is  not  yet  come ;  but  that  he  foresees 
a  time  for  it,  and  so  to  still  himself  in  the  mean 
time,  and  reserve  it. 

To  contain  anger  from  mischief,  though  it  take 
hold  of  a  man,  there  be  two  things  whereof  you 
must  have  special  caution :  the  one,  of  extreme  bit- 
terness of  words,  especially  if  they  be  aculeate  and 
proper,^  for  "  communia  maledicta  "  ^  are  nothing  so 
much;  and,  again,  that  in  anger  a  man  reveal  no 
secrets,  for  that  makes  him  not  fit  for  society :  the 
other,  that  you  do  not  peremptorily  break  oif  in  any 
business  in  a  fit  of  anger ;  but,  howsoever  you  show 
bitterness,  do  not  act  any  thing  that  is  not  re- 
vocable. 

For  raising  and  appeasing  anger  in  another,  it  is 
done  chiefly  by  choosing  of  times  when  men  are 
frowardest  and  worst  disposed  to  incense  them; 
again,  by  gathering  (as  was  touched  before)  all  that 
you  can  find  out  to  aggravate  the  contempt:  and 
the  two  remedies  are  by  the  contraries ;  the  former 
to  take  good  times,  when  first  to  relate  to  a  man  an 
angry  business,  for  the   first  impression  is  much ; 

^  "A  thicker  covering  for  Ms  honor." 

2  Pointed  and  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  party  attackedt 

•  ' '  Ordinary  abuse. " 


292  ESSAYS. 

and  the  other  is,  to  sever,  as  much  as  may  be, 
the  construction  of  the  injury  from  the  point  of 
contempt ;  imputing  it  to  misunderstanding,  fear, 
passion,  or  what  you  will. 


LVIIL  — OF  VICISSITUDE  OF  THINGS. 

Solomon  saith,  "  There  is  no  new  thing  upon 
the  earth  ;  "  ^  so  that  as  Plato  ^  had  an  imagination 
that  all  knowledge  was  but  remembrance,  so  Solo- 
mon giveth  his  sentence,  "That  all  novelty  is  but 
oblivion  ;  "  ^  whereby  you  may  see,  that  the  river  of 
Lethe  runneth  as  well  above  ground  as  below. 
There  is  an  abstruse  astrologer  that  saith,  if  it  were 
not  for  two  things  that  are  constant  (the  one  is, 
that  the  fixed  stars  ever  stand  at  like  distance  one 
from  another,  and  never  come  nearer  together,  nor 
go  further  asunder ;  the  other,  that  the  diurnal 
motion  perpetually  keepeth  time),  no  individual 
would  last  one  moment ;  certain  it  is,  that  the  mat- 
ter is  in  a  perpetual  flux,  and  never  at  a  stay.     The 

1  "  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  which  shall  be  ;  and  that 
which  is  done,  is  that  which  shall  be  done ;  and  there  is  no  new 
thing  under  the  sun.  Is  there  any  thing  whereof  it  may  be  said, 
See,  this  is  new  ?  It  hath  been  already  of  old  time,  which  was 
before  us."  — Ecclesiastes  i.  9,  10. 

2  In  his  Phaedo. 

*  "  There  is  no  remembrance  of  former  things :  neither  shall 
there  be  any  remembrance  of  things  that  are  to  come,  with  those 
that  shall  come  hereafter." — Ecclesiastes  i.  11. 


OF  VICISSITUDE  OF  THINGS.  293 

great  winding-sheets  that  bury  all  things  in  obliv- 
ion, are  two,  —  deluges  and  earthquakes.  As  for 
conflagrations  and  great  droughts,  they  do  not 
merely  dispeople,  but  destroy.  Phaeton's  car  went 
but  a  day ;  and  the  three  years'  drought  in  the  time 
of  Elias,^  was  but  particular,^  and  left  people  alive. 
As  for  the  great  burnings  by  lightnings,  which  are 
often  in  the  West  Indies,^  they  are  but  narrow ;  * 
but  in  the  other  two  destructions,  by  deluge  and 
earthquake,  it  is  further  to  be  noted,  that  the  rem- 
nant of  people  which  happen  to  be  reserved,  are 
commonly  ignorant  and  mountainous  people,  that 
can  give  no  account  of  the  time  past;  so  that  the 
oblivion  is  all  one,  as  if  none  had  been  left.  If 
you  consider  well  of  the  people  of  the  West  Indies, 
it  is  very  probable  that  they  are  a  newer,  or  a 
younger  people  than  the  people  of  the  old  world; 
and  it  is  much  more  likely  that  the  destruction  that 
hath  heretofore  been  there,  was  not  by  earthquakes, 
(as  the  Egyptian  priest  told  Solon,  concerning  the 


1  "  And  Elijah  the  Tishbite,  who  was  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Gilead,  said  unto  Ahab,  As  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  liveth,  before 
whom  I  stand,  there  shall  not  be  dew  nor  rain  these  years,  but 
according  to  my  word."  —  1  Kings  xvii.  1.  "  And  it  came  to  pass 
after  many  days,  that  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  to  Elijah  in  the 
third  year,  saying,  Go,  show  thyself  unto  Ahab ;  and  I  will  send 
rain  upon  the  earth."  —  1  Kings  xviiL  1. 

*  Confined  to  a  limited  space, 

*  The  whole  of  the  continent  of  America  then  discovered  is 
included  under  this  name. 

*  Limited. 


294  ESSAYS. 

Island  of  Atlantis.^  that  it  was  swallowed  by  an 
earthquake),  but  rather  that  it  was  desolated  by  a 
particular  deluge,  for  earthquakes  are  seldom  in 
those  parts ;  but,  on  the  other  side,  they  have  such 
pouring  rivers,  as  the  rivers  of  Asia,  and  Africa, 
and  Europe,  are  but  brooks  to  them.  Their  Andes, 
likewise,  or  mountains,  are  far  higher  than  those 
with  us  ;  whereby  it  seems,  that  the  remnants  of 
generations  of  men  were  in  such  a  particular  deluge 
saved.  As  for  the  observation  that  Machiavel  hath, 
that  the  jealousy  of  sects  doth  nmch  extinguish 
the  memory  of  things,^  traducing  Gregory  the  Great, 
that  he  did  what  in  him  lay  to  extinguish  all 
heathen  antiquities,  I  do  not  find  that  those  zeals 
do  any  great  effects,  nor  last  long ;  as  it  appeared 
in  the  succession  of  Sabinian,^  who  did  revive  the 
former  antiquities. 

The  vicissitude,  or  mutations,  in  the  superior 
globe,  are  no  fit  matter  for  this  present  argument. 
It  may  be,  Plato's  great  year,*  if  the  world  should 
last  so  long,  would  have  some  effect,  not  in  renew- 

1   Vide  Plat.  Tim.  iii.  24,  seq. 

*  Mach.  Disc.  Sop.  Li  v.  ii.  2. 

'  Sabinianua  of  Volaterra  was  elected  Bishop  of  Rome  on  the 
death  of  Gregory  the  Great,  A.  D.  604.  He  was  of  an  avaricious 
disposition,  and  thereby  incurred  the  popular  hatred.  He  died 
in  eighteen  months  after  his  election. 

♦  This  Cicero  speaks  of  as  "the  great  year  of  the  mathema- 
ticians." "On  the  Nature  of  the  Gods,"  B.  4,  ch.  20.  By  some 
it  was  supjjosed  to  occur  after  a  period  of  12,954  years,  while, 
iccording  to  others,  it  was  of  25,920  years'  duration.  — Flat.  Tim. 
iii.  38,  seq. 


OF  VICISSITUDE  OF  THINGS.  295 

ing  the  state  of  like  individuals  (for  that  is  the 
fume  *  of  those  that  conceive  the  celestial  bodies 
have  more  accurate  influences  upon  these  things 
below,  than  indeed  they  have),  but  in  gross.  Com- 
ets, out  of  question,  have  likewise  power  and  eflFect 
over  the  gross  and  mass  of  things ;  but  they  are 
rather  gazed,  and  waited  upon^  in  their  journey, 
than  wisely  observed  in  their  effects,  especially  in 
their  respective  effects ;  that  is,  what  kind  of  comet 
for  magnitude,  color,  version  of  the  beams,  placing 
in  the  region  of  heaven,  or  lasting,  produceth  what 
kind  of  effects. 

There  is  a  toy,^  which  I  have  heard,  and  I  would 
not  have  it  given  over,  but  waited  upon  a  little. 
They  say  it  is  observed  in  the  Low  Countries  (I 
know  not  in  what  part),  that  every  five  and  thirty 
years  the  same  kind  and  suit  of  years  and  weather 
comes  about  again  ;  as  great  frosts,  great  wet,  great 
droughts,  warm  winters,  summers  with  little  heat, 
and  the  like ;  and  they  call  it  the  prime.  It  is  a 
thing  I  do  the  rather  mention,  because,  computing 
backwards,  I  have  found  some  concurrence. 

But  to  leave  these  points  of  nature,  and  to  come 
to  men.  The  greatest  vicissitude  of  things  amongst 
men,  is  the  vicissitude  of  sects  and  religions ;  for 
those  orbs  rule  in  men's  minds  most.  The  true 
religion  is  built  upon  the  rock ;  the  rest  are  tossed 
upon  the  waves  of  time.     To  speak,  therefore,  of 

*  Conceit.  a  Observed. 

*  A  curious  faucy  or  odd  conceit. 


296  ESSAYS. 

the  causes  of  new  sects,  and  to  give  some  counsel 
concerning  them,  as  far  as  the  weakness  of  human 
judgment  can  give  stay  to  so  great  revolutions. 

When  the  religion  formerly  received  is  rent  by 
discords,  and  when  the  holiness  of  the  professors  of 
religion  is  decayed  and  full  of  scandal,  and,  withal, 
the  times  be  stupid,  ignorant,  and  barbarous,  you 
may  doubt  the  springing  up  of  a  new  sect ;  if  then, 
also,  there  should  arise  any  extravagant  and  strange 
spirit  to  make  himself  author  thereof;  all  which 
points  held  when  Mahomet  published  his  law.  If  a 
new  sect  have  not  two  properties,  fear  it  not,  for  it 
will  not  spread.  The  one  is  the  supplanting  or  the 
opposing  of  authority  established,  for  nothing  is  more 
popular  than  that ;  the  other  is,  the  giving  license 
to  pleasures  and  a  voluptuous  life ;  for  as  for 
speculative  heresies  (such  as  were  in  ancient  times 
the  Arians,  and  now  the  Arminians),^  though  they 
work  mightily  upon  men's  wits,  yet  they  do  not 
produce  any  great  alterations  in  states,  except  it  be 
by  the  help  of  civil  occasions.  There  be  three 
manner  of  plantations  of  new  sects:  by  the  power 
of  signs  and  miracles ;  by  the  eloquence  and  wisdom 
of  speech  and  persuasion  ;  and  by  the  sword.  For 
martyrdoms,  I  reckon  them  amongst  miracles,  be- 
cause they  seem  to  exceed  the  strength  of  human 

'  The  followers  of  Arminins,  or  James  Hannensen,  a  celebrated 
divine  of  the  16th  and  17th  centuries.  Though  called  a  heresy  by 
Bacon,  his  opinions  have  been  for  two  centuries,  and  Btill  are,  held 
by  a  large  portion  of  the  Church  of  England, 


OF  VICISSITUDE  OF  THINGS.  297 

nature  ;  and  I  may  do  the  like  of  superlative  and 
admirable  holiness  of  life.  Surely,  there  is  no  better 
way  to  stop  the  rising  of  new  sects  and  schisms, 
than  to  reform  abuses ;  to  compound  the  smaller 
differences ;  to  proceed  mildly,  and  not  with  sangui- 
nary persecutions ;  and  rather  to  take  off  the  prin- 
cipal authors,  by  winning  and  advancing  them,  than 
to  enrage  them  by  violence  and  bitterness. 

The  changes  and  vicissitude  in  wars  are  many, 
but  chiefly  in  three  things  :  in  the  seats  or  stages  of 
the  war,  in  the  weapons,  and  in  the  manner  of  the 
conduct.  Wars,  in  ancient  time,  seemed  more  to 
move  from  east  to  west ;  for  the  Persians,  Assyrians, 
Arabians,  Tartars  (which  were  the  invaders),  were 
all  eastern  people.  It  is  true  the  Gauls  were 
western ;  but  we  read  but  of  two  incursions  of 
theirs,  the  one  to  Gallo-Grsecia,  the  other  to  Rome : 
but  east  and  west  have  no  certain  points  of  heaven ; 
and  no  more  have  the  wars,  either  from  the  east  or 
west,  any  certainty  of  observation ;  but  north  and 
south  are  fixed;  and  it  hath  seldom  or  never  been 
seen  that  the  far  southern  people  have  invaded  the 
northern,  but  contrariwise :  whereby  it  is  manifest 
that  the  northern  tract  of  the  world  is  in  nature 
the  more  martial  region,  be  it  in  respect  of  the  stars 
of  that  hemisphere,^  or  of  the  great  continents  that 
are  upon  the  north;  whereas,  the  south  part,  for 
aught  that  is  known,  is  almost  all  sea;  or  (which 

•  A  belief  in  astrology,  or  at  least  the  influence  of  the  stars  was 
almost  universal  in  the  time  of  Bacon. 


298  ESSAYS. 

is  most  apparent)  of  the  cold  of  the  northern  parts, 
which  is  that  which,  without  aid  of  discipline,  doth 
make  the  bodies  hardest,  and  the  courage  warmest. 
Upon  the  breaking  and  shivering  of  a  great  state 
and  empire,  you  may  be  sure  to  have  wars ;  for 
great  empires,  while  they  stand,  do  enervate  and 
destroy  the  forces  of  the  natives  which  they  have 
subdued,  resting  upon  their  own  protecting  forces ; 
and  then,  when  they  fail  also,  all  goes  to  ruin,  and 
they  become  a  prey.  So  was  it  in  the  decay  of  the 
Roman  empire,  and  likewise  in  the  empire  of  Al- 
maigne,^  after  Charles  the  Great,^  every  bird  taking 
a  feather,  and  were  not  unlike  to  befall  to  Spain,  if 
it  should  break.  The  great  accessions  and  unions 
of  kingdoms  do  likewise  stir  up  wars ;  for  when  a 
state  grows  to  an  over-power,  it  is  like  a  great  flood, 
that  will  be  sure  to  overflow,  as  it  hath  been  seen 
in  the  states  of  Rome,  Turkey,  Spain,  and  others. 
Look  when  the  world  hath  fewest  barbarous  people, 
but  such  as  commonly  will  not  marry  or  generate, 
except  they  know  means  to  live  (as  it  is  almost 
everywhere  at  this  day,  except  Tartary),  there  is  no 
danger  of  inundations  of  people ;  but  wlien  there  be 
great  shoals  of  people,  which  go  on  to  populate, 
without  foreseeing  means  of  life  and  sustenation, 
it  is  of  necessity  that  once  in  an  age  or  two  they 
discharge  a  portion  of  their  people  upon  other  na- 
tions, which  the  ancient  northern  people  were  wont 
to  do  by  lot ;  casting  lots  what  part  should  stay  at 

^  Germauy.  "  Charlemagne. 


OF  VICISSITUDE  OF  THINGS.  299 

home,  and  what  should  seek  their  fortunes.  When 
a  warlike  state  grows  soft  and  effeminate,  they  may 
be  sure  of  a  war,  for  commonly  such  states  are  grown 
rich  in  the  time  of  their  degenerating;  and  so  the 
prey  inviteth,  and  their  decay  in  valor  encourageth 
a  war. 

As  for  the  weapons,  it  hardly  falleth  under  rule 
and  observation,  yet  we  see  even  they  have  returns 
and  vicissitudes ;  for  certain  it  is  that  ordnance  was 
known  in  the  city  of  the  Oxidraces,  in  India,  and 
was  that  which  the  Macedonians^  called  thunder 
and  lightning,  and  magic  ;  and  it  is  well  known 
that  the  use  of  ordnance  hath  been  in  China  above 
two  thousand  years.  The  conditions  of  weapons, 
and  their  improvements  are,  first,  the  fetching^  afar 
off,  for  that  outruns  the  danger,  as  it  is  seen  in 
ordnance  and  muskets ;  secondly,  the  strength  of 
the  percussion,  wherein,  likewise,  ordnance  do  ex- 
ceed all  arictations,^  and  ancient  inventions;  the 
third  is,  the  commodious  use  of  them,  as  that  they 
may  serve  in  all  weathers,  that  the  carriage  may  be 
light  and  manageable,  and  the  like. 

For  the  conduct  of  the  war:  at  the  first,  men 
rested  extremely  upon  number;  they  did  put  the 
wars  likewise  upon  main  force  and  valor,  pointing 
days  for  pitched  fields,  and  so  trying  it  out  upon 
an  even  match;  and  they  were  more  ignorant  in 

1  When  led  thither  by  Alexander  the  Great. 

2  Striking. 

8  Application  of  the  "aries,"  or  battering-ram. 


300  ESSAYS. 

ranging  and  arraying  their  battles.  After  they 
grew  to  rest  upon  number,  rather  competent  than 
vast,  they  grew  to  advantages  of  place,  cunning 
diversions,  and  the  like,  and  they  grew  more  skilful 
in  the  ordering  of  their  battles. 

In  the  youth  of  a  state,  arms  do  flourish ;  in  the 
middle  age  of  a  state,  learning;  and  then  both  of 
them  together  for  a  time ;  in  the  declining  age  of  a 
state,  mechanical  arts  and  merchandise.  Learning 
hath  its  infancy  when  it  is  but  beginning,  and 
almost  childish ;  then  its  youth,  when  it  is  luxuriant 
and  juvenile ;  then  its  strength  of  years,  when  it  is 
solid  and  reduced ;  and,  lastly,  its  old  age,  when  it 
waxeth  dry  and  exhaust.  But  it  is  not  good  to  look 
too  long  upon  these  turning  wheels  of  vicissitude, 
lest  we  become  giddy ;  as  for  the  philology  of  chem, 
that  is  but  a  circle  of  tales,  and  therefore  not  fit  for 
this  writing. 


APPENDIX  TO  ESSAYS. 


I.  — A  FRAGMENT  OF  AN  ESSAY  OF  FAME.* 

The  poets  make  fame  a  monster;  they  describe 
her  in  part  finely  and  elegantly,  and  in  part  gravely 
and  sententiously ;  they  say,  Look,  how  many  feath- 
ers she  hath,  so  many  eyes  she  hath  underneath,  so 
many  tongues,  so  many  voices,   she  pricks  up  so 


many  ears 


This  is  a  flourish :  there  follow  excellent  parables  ; 
as  that  she  gathereth  strength  in  going;  that  she 
goeth  upon  the  ground,  and  yet  hideth  her  head  in 
the  clouds;  that  in  the  daytime  she  sitteth  in  a 
watch-tower,  and  flieth  most  by  night;  that  she 
mingleth  things  done  with  things  not  done ;  and  that 
she  is  a  terror  to  great  cities ;  but  that  which  pass^ 
eth  all  the  rest  is,  they  do  recount  that  the  Earth, 
mother  of  the  giants  that  made  war  against  Jupiter, 
and  were  by  him  destroyed,  thereupon  in  anger 
brought  forth  Fame ;  for  certain  it  is,  that  rebels, 
figured  by  the  giants,  and  seditious  fames  and  libels, 

1  This  fragment  was  found  among  Lord  Bacon's  papers,  and 
published  by  Dr.  Rawley  in  his  Resuscitatio. 


302  ESSAYS. 

are  but  brothers  and  sisters,  masculine  and  feminine. 
But  now,  if  a  man  can  tame  this  monster,  and  bring 
her  to  feed  at  the  hand  and  govern  her,  and  with 
her  fly  other  ravening  fowl,  and  kill  them,  it  is  some- 
what worth;  but  we  are  infected  with  the  style  of 
the  poets.  To  speak  now  in  a  sad  and  serious 
manner,  there  is  not  in  all  the  politics  a  place  less 
handled,  and  more  worthy  to  be  handled,  than  this 
of  fame.  We  will,  therefore,  speak  of  these  points. 
What  are  false  fames,  and  what  are  true  fames, 
and  how  they  may  be  best  discerned;  how  fames 
may  be  sown  and  raised ;  how  they  may  be  spread 
and  multiplied ;  and  how  they  may  be  checked  and 
lay  dead;  and  other  things  concerning  the  nature 
of  fame.  Fame  is  of  that  force,  as  theni  is  scarcely 
any  great  action  wherein  it  hath  not  a  great  part, 
especially  in  the  war.  Mucianus  undid  Vitellius  by 
a  fame  that  he  scattered,  that  Vitellius  had  in  pur- 
pose to  remove  the  legions  of  Syria  into  Germany, 
and  the  legions  of  Germany  into  Syria;  whereupon 
the  legions  of  Syria  were  infinitely  inflamed.^  Julius 
Csesar  took  Pompey  unprovided,  and  laid  asleep  his 
industry  and  preparations  by  a  fame  that  he  cun- 
ningly gave  out,  how  Caesar's  own  soldiers  loved  him 
not ;  and  being  wearied  with  the  wars,  and  laden 
with  the  spoils  of  Gaul,  would  forsake  him  as  soon 
as  he  came  into  Italy.^  Livia  settled  all  things  for 
the  succession  of  her  son  Tiberius,  by  continually 
giving  out   that  her   husband  Augustus  was  upon 

1  Tac.  Hist,  ii.  80.  «  Gibs,  de  Bell.  Civ.  1.  6. 


OF  A  KING.  303 

recovery  and  amendment;^  and  it  is  a  usual  thing 
with  the  bashaws  to  conceal  the  death  of  the  Grand 
Turk  from  the  janizaries  and  men  of  war,  to  save  the 
sacking  of  Constantinople,  and  other  towns,  as  their 
manner  is.  Themistocles  made  Xerxes,  king  of 
Persia,  post  apace  out  of  Grsecia,  by  giving  out  that 
the  Grecians  had  a  purpose  to  break  his  bridge  of 
ships  which  he  had  made  athwart  Hellespont.* 
There  be  a  thousand  such  like  examples,  and  the 
more  they  are,  the  less  they  need  to  be  repeated,  be- 
cause a  man  meeteth  with  them  everywhere ;  there- 
fore, let  all  wise  governors  have  as  great  a  watch 
and  care  over  fames,  as  they  have  of  the  actions  and 
designs  themselves. 


II.  — OF  A  KING. 

1.  A  KING  is  a  mortal  God  on  earth,  unto  whom 
the  living  God  hath  lent  his  own  name  as  a  great 
honor;  but  withal  told  him,  he  should  die  like  a 
man,  lest  he  should  be  proud  and  flatter  himself, 
that  God  hath,  with  his  name,  imparted  unto  him 
his  nature  also. 

2.  Of  all  kind  of  men,  God  is  the  least  beholden 
unto  them ;  for  he  doth  most  for  them,  and  they  do, 
ordinarily,  least  for  him. 

1  Tac.  Ann.  i.  6.  «    Vide  Herod,  viu.  108,  109. 


304  ESSAYS. 

3.  A  king  that  would  not  feel  his  crown  too  heavy 
for  him,  must  wear  it  every  day ;  but  if  he  think  it 
too  light,  he  knoweth  not  of  what  metal  it  is  made. 

4.  He  must  make  religion  the  rule  of  govern- 
ment, and  not  to  balance  the  scale ;  for  he  that  cast- 
eth  in  religion  only  to  make  the  scales  even,  his  own 
weight  is  contained  in  those  characters :  "  Mene, 
mene,  tekel,  upharsin  :  He  is  found  too  light,  his 
kingdom  shall  be  taken  from  him." 

5.  And  that  king  that  holds  not  religion  the  best 
reason  of  state,  is  void  of  all  piety  and  justice,  the 
supporters  of  a  king. 

6.  He  must  be  able  to  give  counsel  himself,  but 
not  rely  thereupon ;  for  though  happy  events  justify 
their  counsels,  yet  it  is  better  that  the  evil  event  of 
good  advice  be  rather  imputed  to  a  subject  than  a 
sovereign. 

7.  He  is  a  fountain  of  honor,  which  should  not 
run  with  a  waste-pipe,  lest  the  courtiers  sell  the 
water,  and  then,  as  Papists  say  of  their  holy  wells, 
it  loses  the  virtue. 

8.  He  is  the  life  of  the  law,  not  only  as  he  is  Lex 
loquens  himself,  but  because  he  animateth  the  dead 
letter,  making  it  active  towards  all  his  subjects 
prcemio  et  pcena. 

9.  A  wise  king  must  do  less  in  altering  his  laws 
than  he  may ;  for  new  government  is  ever  dangerous. 
It  being  true  in  the  body  politic,  as  in  the  corporal, 
that  omnis  subita  immutatio  est  periculosa;  and 
though  it  be  for  the  better,  yet  it  is  not  without 


OF  A  KING.  305 

a  fearful  apprehension ;  for  he  that  changeth  the 
fundamental  laws  of  a  kingdom,  thinketh  there  is 
no  good  title  to  a  crown,  but  by  conquest. 

10.  A  king  that  setteth  to  sale  seats  of  justice, 
oppresseth  the  people;  for  he  teacheth  his  judges 
to  sell  justice;  and  pretio  parata  pretio  venditur 
justitia. 

11.  Bounty  and  magnificence  are  virtues  very 
regal,  but  a  prodigal  king  is  nearer  a  tyrant  than  a 
parsimonious ;  for  store  at  home  draweth  not  his 
contemplations  abroad,  but  want  supplieth  itself  of 
what  is  next,  and  many  times  the  next  way.  A 
king  therein  must  be  wise,  and  know  what  he  may 
justly  do. 

12.  That  king  which  is  not  feared,  is  not  loved; 
and  he  that  is  well  seen  in  his  craft,  must  as  well 
study  to  be  feared  as  loved ;  yet  not  loved  for  fear, 
but  feared  for  love. 

13.  Therefore,  as  he  must  always  resemble  Him 
whose  great  name  he  beareth,  and  that  as  in  mani- 
festing the  sweet  influence  of  his  mercy  on  the  severe 
stroke  of  his  justice  sometimes,  so  in  this  not  to 
suffer  a  man  of  death  to  live ;  for,  besides  that  the 
land  doth  mourn,  the  restraint  of  justice  towards 
sin  doth  more  retard  the  affection  of  love,  than  the 
extent  of  mercy  doth  inflame  it;  and  sure,  where 
love  is  [ill]  bestowed,  fear  is  quite  lost. 

14.  His  greatest  enemies  are  his  flatterers;  for 
though  they  ever  speak  on  his  side,  yet  their  words 
still  make  against  him. 

20 


306  ESSAYS. 

15.  The  love  which  a  king  oweth  to  a  weal  public 
should  not  be  overstrained  to  any  one  particular; 
yet  that  his  more  especial  favor  do  reflect  upon 
some  worthy  ones,  is  somewhat  necessary,  because 
there  are  few  of  that  capacity. 

16.  He  must  have  a  special  care  of  five  things, 
if  he  would  not  have  his  crown  to  be  but  to  him 
infelix  felicitas. 

First,  that  simulata  sanctitas  be  not  in  the  church ; 
for  that  is  duplex  iniquitas. 

Secondly,  that  inutilis  (Bquitas  sit  not  in  the  chan- 
cery ;  for  that  is  inepta  misericordia. 

Thirdly,  that  utilis  iniquitas  keep  not  the  ex- 
chequer; for  that  is  crudele  latrocinium. 

Fourthly,  that  fidelis  temeritas  be  not  his  general ; 
for  that  will  bring  but  seram  pcsnitentiam. 

Fifthly,  that  infidelis  prudentia  be  not  his  secre- 
tary ;  for  that  is  anguis  sub  viridi  herbd. 

To  conclude :  as  he  is  of  the  greatest  power,  so 
he  is  subject  to  the  greatest  cares,  made  the  servant 
of  his  people,  or  else  he  were  without  a  calling  at  all. 

He,  then,  that  honoreth  him  not  is  next  an  atheist, 
wanting  the  fear  of  God  in  his  heart. 


ON  DEATH.  307 


III.  — ON  DEATH. 

1.  I  HAVE  often  thought  upon  death,  and  I  find 
it  the  least  of  all  evils.  All  that  which  is  past  is  as 
a  dream ;  and  he  that  hopes  or  depends  upon  time 
coming,  dreams  waking.  So  much  of  our  life  as 
we  have  discovered  is  already  dead ;  and  all  those 
hours  which  we  share,  even  from  the  breasts  of  our 
mothers,  until  we  return  to  our  grandmother  the 
earth,  are  part  of  our  dying  days,  whereof  even 
this  is  one,  and  those  that  succeed  are  of  the  same 
nature,  for  we  die  daily ;  and,  as  others  have  given 
place  to  us,  so  we  must,  in  the  end,  give  way  to 
others. 

2.  Physicians,  in  the  name  of  death,  include  all 
sorrow,  anguish,  disease,  calamity,  or  whatsoever 
can  fall  in  the  life  of  man,  either  grievous  or  un- 
welcome. But  these  things  are  familiar  unto  us, 
and  we  suffer  them  every  hour;  therefore  we  die 
daily,  and  I  am  older  since  I  affirmed  it. 

3.  I  know  many  wise  men  that  fear  to  die,  for 
the  change  is  bitter,  and  flesh  would  refuse  to  prove 
it ;  besides,  the  expectation  brings  terror,  and  that 
exceeds  the  evil.  But  I  do  not  believe  that  any^ 
man  fears  to  be  dead,  but  only  the  stroke  of  death  jy 
and  such  are  my  hopes,  that  if  Heaven  be  pleased, 
and  nature  renew  but  my  lease  for  twenty-one  years 
more  without  asking  longer  days,  I  shall  be  strong 


308  ESSAYS. 

enough  to  acknowledge  without  mourning,  that  I 
was  begotten  mortal.  Virtue  walks  not  in  the  high- 
way, though  she  go  'per  alta ;  this  is  strength  and 
the  blood  to  virtue,  to  contemn  things  that  be  de- 
sired, and  to  neglect  that  which  is  feared. 

4.  Why  should  man  be  in  love  with  his  fetters, 
though  of  gold  ?  Art  thou  drowned  in  security  ? 
Then  I  say  thou  art  perfectly  dead.  For  though 
thou  movest,  yet  thy  soul  is  buried  within  thee,  and 
thy  good  angel  either  forsakes  his  guard,  or  sleeps. 
There  is  nothing  under  heaven,  saving  a  true  friend 
(who  cannot  be  counted  within  the  number  of  mov- 
ables), unto  which  my  heart  doth  lean.  And  this 
dear  freedom  hath  bsgotten  me  this  peace,  that  I 
mourn  not  for  th*3t>  end  which  must  be,  nor  spend 
one  wish  to  have  one  minute  added  ^  to  the  uncertain 
date  of  my  years.  It  was  no  mean  apprehension 
of  Lucian,  who  says  of  Menippus,  that  in  his  travels 
through  hell,  he  knew  not  the  kings  of  the  earth 
from  other  men  but  only  by  their  louder  cryings 
and  tears,  which  were  fostered  in  them  through  the 
remorseful  memory  of  the  good  days  they  had  seen, 
and  the  fruitful  havings  which  they  so  unwillingly 
left  behind  them.  He  that  was  well  seated,  looked 
back  at  his  portion,  and  was  loath  to  forsake  his 
farm ;  and  others,  either  minding  marriages,  pleasures, 
profit,  or  preferment,  desired  to  be  excused  from 
death's  banquet.  They  had  made  an  appointment 
with  earth,  looking  at  the  blessings,  not  the  hand 
that  enlarged  them,  forgetting  how  unclothedly  they 


ON  DEATH.  309 

came  hither,  or  with  what  naked  ornaments  they 
were  arrayed. 

5.  But  were  we  servants  of  the  precept  given, 
and  observers  of  the  heathens'  rule,  Memento  mori, 
and  not  become  benighted  with  this  seeming  felic- 
ity, we  should  enjoy  it  as  men  prepared  to  lose, 
and  not  wind  up  our  thoughts  upon  so  perishing  a 
fortune.  He  that  is  not  slackly  strong  (as  the 
servants  of  pleasure),  how  can  he  be  found  unready 
to  quit  the  vail  and  false  visage  of  his  perfection? 
The  soul  having  shaken  off  her  flesh,  doth  then  set 
up  for  herself,  and  contemning  things  that  are 
under,  shows  what  finger  hath  enforced  her ;  for  the 
souls  of  idiots  are  of  the  same  piece  with  those  of 
statesmen,  but  now  and  then  nature  is  at  a  fault, 
and  this  good  guest  of  ours  takes  soil  in  an  imper- 
fect body,  and  so  is  slackened  from  showing  her 
wonders,  like  an  excellent  musician,  which  cannot 
utter  himself  upon  a  defective  instrument. 

6.  But  see  how  I  am  swerved,  and  lose  my 
course,  touching  at  the  soul  that  doth  least  hold 
action  with  death,  who  hath  the  surest  property  in 
this  frail  act ;  his  style  is  the  end  of  all  flesh,  and 
the  beginning  of  incorruption. 

This  ruler  of  monuments  leads  men,  for  the  most 
part,  out  of  this  world  with  their  heels  forward,  in 
token  that  he  is  contrary  to  life,  which  being  ob- 
tained, sends  men  headlong  into  this  wretched  thea- 
tre, where,  being  arrived,  their  first  language  is  that 
of  mourning.     Nor,  in  my  own  thoughts,  can  I  com- 


310  ESSAYS. 

pare  men  more  fitly  to  any  thing  than  to  the  Indian 
fig-tree,  which,  being  ripened  to  his  full  height,  is 
said  to  decline  his  branches  do^vn  to  the  earth, 
whereof  she  conceives  again,  and  they  become  roots 
in  their  own  stock. 

So  man,  having  derived  his  being  from  the  earth, 
first  lives  the  life  of  a  tree,  drawing  his  nourish- 
ment as  a  plant,  and  made  ripe  for  death,  he  tends 
downwards,  and  is  sown  again  in  his  mother  the 
earth,  where  he  perisheth  not,  but  expects  a  quick- 
ening. 

7.  So  we  see  death  exempts  not  a  man  from  be- 
ing, but  only  presents  an  alteration ;  yet  there  are 
some  men  (I  think)  that  stand  otherwise  persuaded. 
Death  finds  not  a  worse  friend  than  an  alderman, 
to  whose  door  I  never  knew  him  welcome ;  but  he 
is  an  importunate  guest,  and  will  not  be  said  nay. 

And  though  they  themselves  shall  aflBrm  that 
they  are  not  within,  yet  the  answer  will  not  be 
taken ;  and  that  which  heightens  their  fear  is,  that 
they  know  they  are  in  danger  to  forfeit  their  flesh* 
but  are  not  wise  of  the  payment-day,  which  sickly 
uncertainty  is  the  occasion  that  (for  the  most  part) 
they  step  out  of  this  world  unfurnished  for  their 
general  account,  and,  being  all  unprovided,  desire 
yet  to  hold  their  gravity,  preparing  their  souls  to 
answer  in  scarlet. 

Thus  I  gather,  that  death  is  unagreeable  to  most 
citizens,  because  they  commonly  die  intestate;  this 
being  a  rule,  that  when   their  will  is  made,  they 


ON  DEATH.  311 

think  themselves  nearer  a  grave  than  before.  Now 
they,  out  of  the  wisdom  of  thousands,  think  to  scare 
destiny,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal,  by  not  mak- 
ing a  will,  or  to  live  longer  by  protestation  of  their 
unwillingness  to  die.  They  are,  for  the  most  part, 
well  made  in  this  world  (accounting  their  treasure 
by  legions,  as  men  do  devils).  Their  fortune  looks 
towards  them,  and  they  are  willing  to  anchor  at  it, 
and  desire  (if  it  be  possible)  to  put  the  evil  day  far 
off  from  them,  and  to  adjourn  their  ungrateful  and 
killing  period. 

No,  these  are  not  the  men  which  have  bespoken 
death,  or  whose  looks  are  assured  to  entertain  a 
thought  of  him. 

8.  Death  arrives  gracious  only  to  such  as  sit  in 
darkness,  or  lie  heavy  burdened  with  grief  and  irons ; 
to  the  poor  Christian,  that  sits  bound  in  the  galley ; 
to  despairful  widows,  pensive  prisoners,  and  deposed 
kings ;  to  them  whose  fortune  runs  back,  and  whose 
spirits  mutiny :  unto  such,  death  is  a  redeemer,  and 
the  grave  a  place  for  retiredness  and  rest. 

These  wait  upon  the  shore  of  death,  and  waft  unto 
him  to  draw  near,  wishing  above  all  others  to  see 
his  star,  that  they  might  be  led  to  his  place ;  wooing 
the  remorseless  sisters  to  wind  down  the  watch  of 
their  life,  and  to  break  them  off  before  the  hour. 

9.  But  death  is  a  doleful  messenger  to  a  usurer, 
and  fate  untimely  cuts  their  thread ;  for  it  is  never 
mentioned  by  him,  but  when  rumors  of  war  and 
civil  tumults  put  him  in  mind  thereof. 


312  ESSAYS. 

And  when  many  hands  are  armed,  and  the  peace 
of  a  city  in  disorder,  and  the  foot  of  the  common 
soldiers  sounds  an  alarm  on  his  stairs,  then  perhaps 
such  a  one  (broken  in  thoughts  of  his  moneys  abroad, 
and  cursing  the  monuments  of  coin  which  are  in 
his  house)  can  be  content  to  think  of  death,  and 
(being  hasty  of  perdition)  will  perhaps  hang  himself, 
lest  his  throat  should  be  cut ;  provided  that  he  may 
do  it  in  his  study,  surrounded  with  wealth,  to  which 
his  eye  sends  a  faint  and  languishing  salute,  even 
upon  the  turning  off;  remembering  always,  that  he 
have  time  and  liberty,  by  writing,  to  depute  himself 
as  his  own  heir. 

For  that  is  a  great  peace  to  his  end,  and  recon- 
ciles him  wonderfully  upon  the  point. 

10.  Herein  we  all  dally  with  ourselves,  and  are 
without  proof  of  necessity.  I  am  not  of  those,  that 
dare  promise  to  pine  away  myself  in  vainglory,  and 
I  hold  such  to  be  but  feat  boldness,  and  them  that 
dare  commit  it,  to  be  vain.  Yet,  for  my  part,  I 
think  nature  should  do  me  great  wrong,  if  I  should 
be  so  long  in  dying,  as  I  was  in  being  born. 

To  speak  truth,  no  man  knows  the  lists  of  his 
own  patience,  nor  can  divine  how  able  he  shall  be 
in  his  sufferings,  till  the  storm  come  (the  perfectest 
virtue  being  tried  in  action);  but  I  would  (out  of  a 
care  to  do  the  best  business  well)  ever  keep  a  guard, 
and  stand  upon  keeping  faith  and  a  good  conscience. 

11.  And  if  wishes  might  find  place,  I  would  dia 
together,  and  not  my  mind  often,  and  my  body  once ; 


ON  DEATH.  313 

that  is,  I  would  prepare  for  the  messengers  of  death, 
sickness,  and  affliction,  and  not  wait  long,  or  be 
attempted  by  the  violence  of  pain. 

Herein  I  do  not  profess  myself  a  Stoic,  to  hold 
grief  no  evil,  but  opinion,  and  a  thing  indifferent. 

But  I  consent  with  Caesar,  that  the  suddenest 
passage  is  easiest,  and  there  is  nothing  more  awak- 
ens our  resolve  and  readiness  to  die  than  the  qui- 
eted conscience,  strengthened  with  opinion  that  we 
shall  be  well  spoken  of  upon  earth  by  those  that 
are  just,  and  of  the  family  of  virtue ;  the  opposite 
whereof  is  a  fury  to  man,  and  makes  even  life 
unsweet. 

Therefore,  what  is  more  heavy  than  evil  fame 
deserved?  Or,  likewise,  who  can  see  worse  days, 
than  he  that,  yet  living,  doth  follow  at  the  funerals 
of  his  own  reputation? 

I  have  laid  up  many  hopes,  that  I  am  privileged 
from  that  kind  of  mourning,  and  could  wish  the  like 
peace  to  all  those  with  whom  I  wage  love. 

12.  I  might  say  much  of  the  commodities  that 
death  can  sell  a  man ;  but,  briefly,  death  is  a  friend 
of  ours,  and  he  that  is  not  ready  to  entertain  him, 
is  not  at  home.  Whilst  I  am,  my  ambition  is  not 
to  foreflow  the  tide  ;  I  have  but  so  to  make  my 
interest  of  it  as  I  may  account  for  it ;  I  would  wish 
nothing  but  what  might  better  my  days,  nor  desire 
any  greater  place  than  the  front  of  good  opinion, 
I  make  not  love  to  the  continuance  of  days,  but  to 
the  goodness  of  them;  nor  wish  to  die,  but  refer 


314  ESSAYS. 

myself  to  my  hour,  which  the  great  Dispenser  of  all 
things  hath  appointed  me;  yet,  as  I  am  frail,  and 
suffered  for  the  first  fault,  were  it  given  me  to 
choose,  I  should  not  be  earnest  to  see  the  evening 
of  my  age ;  that  extremity,  of  itself,  being  a  dis- 
ease, and  a  mere  return  into  infancy ;  so  that,  if 
perpetuity  of  life  might  be  given  me,  I  should  think 
what  the  Greek  poet  said ;  "  Such  an  age  is  a  mor- 
tal evil."  And  since  I  must  needs  be  dead,  I  require 
it  may  not  be  done  before  mine  enemies,  that  I  be  not 
stript  before  I  be  cold ;  but  before  my  friends.  The 
night  is  even  now :  but  that  name  is  lost ;  it  is  not 
now  late,  but  early.  Mine  eyes  begin  to  discharge 
their  watch,  and  compound  with  this  fleshly  weak- 
ness for  a  time  of  perpetual  rest ;  and  I  shall  pres- 
ently be  as  happy  for  a  few  hours,  as  I  had  died 
the  first  hour  I  was  born. 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIEJSTTS. 


PREFACE. 


The  earliest  antiquity  lies  buried  in  silence  and  ob- 
livion, excepting  the  remains  we  have  of  it  in  sacred 
writ.  This  silence  was  succeeded  hj  poetical  fables, 
and  these,  at  length,  by  the  writings  we  now  enjoy ;  so 
that  the  concealed  and  secret  learning  of  the  ancients 
seems  separated  from  the  history  and  knowledge  of 
the  following  ages  by  a  veil,  or  partition-wall  of  fables, 
interposing  between  the  things  that  are  lost  and  those 
that  remain.^ 

Many  may  imagine  that  I  am  here  entering  upon  a 
work  of  fancy,  or  amusement,  and  design  to  use  a  poet- 
ical liberty',  in  explaining  poetical  fables.  It  is  true, 
fables,  in  general,  are  composed  of  ductile  matter,  that 
may  be  drawn  into  great  variety  by  a  witty  talent  or  an 
inventive  genius,  and  be  delivered  of  plausible  meanings 

1  Varro  distributes  the  ages  of  the  world  into  three  periods; 
viz  :  the  unknown,  the  fabulous,  and  the  historical.  Of  the  former, 
we  have  no  accounts  but  in  Scripture ;  for  the  second,  we  must 
consult  the  ancient  poets,  such  as  Hesiod,  Homer,  or  those  who 
wrote  still  earlier,  and  then  again  come  back  to  Ovid,  who,  in  his 
Metamorphoses,  seems,  in  imitation  perhaps  of  some  ancient  Greek 
poet,  to  have  intended  a  complete  collection,  or  a  kind  of  continued 
and  connected  history  of  the  fabulous  age,  especially  with  regard 
to  changes,  revolutions,  or  transformations. 


318  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

which  they  never  contained.  But  this  procedure  has 
already  been  carried  to  excess  ;  and  great  numbers,  to 
procure  the  sanction  of  antiquity  to  their  own  notions 
and  inventions,  have  miserably  wrested  and  abused 
the  fables  of  the  ancients. 

Nor  is  this  only  a  late  or  unfrequent  practice,  but  of 
ancient  date  and  common  even  to  this  day.  Thus 
Chrysippus,  like  an  interpreter  of  dreams,  attributed 
the  opinions  of  the  Stoics  to  the  poets  of  old ;  and  the 
chemists,  at  present,  more  childishly  apply  the  poetical 
transformations  to  their  experiments  of  the  furnace. 
And  though  I  have  well  weighed  and  considered  all 
this,  and  thoroughly  seen  into  the  levity  which  the  mind 
indulges  for  allegories  and  allusions,  yet  I  cannot  but 
retain  a  high  value  for  the  ancient  mythologj'.  And, 
certainly,  it  were  very  injudicious  to  suffer  the  fondness 
and  licentiousness  of  a  few  to  detract  from  the  honor 
of  allegor^^  and  parable  in  general.  This  would  be 
rash,  and  almost  profane  ;  for,  since  religion  delights  in 
such  shadows  and  disguises,  to  abolish  them  were,  in 
a  manner,  to  prohibit  all  intercourse  betwixt  things 
divine  and  human. 

Upon  deliberate  consideration,  my  judgment  is,  that 
a  concealed  instruction  and  allegory  was  originally  in- 
tended in  many  of  the  ancient  fables.  This  opinion 
may,  in  some  respect,  be  owing  to  the  veneration  I 
have  for  antiquity,  but  more  to  observing  that  some 
fables  discover  a  great  and  evident  similitude,  relation, 
and  connection  with  the  thing  they  signify,  as  well  in 
the  structure  of  the  fable  as  in  the  propriety  of  the 
names  whereby  the  persons  or  actors  are  characterized  ; 
insomuch,  that  no  one  could  positively  deny  a  sense 


PREFACE.  319 

and  meaning  to  be  from  the  first  intended,  and  pur- 
posely shadowed  out  in  them.  For  who  can  hear  that 
Fame,  after  the  giants  were  destroyed,  sprung  up  as 
their  posthumous  sister,  and  not  apply  it  to  the  clamor 
of  parties  and  the  seditious  rumors  which  commonly 
%  about  for  a  time  upon  the  quelling  of  insurrections? 
Or  who  can  read  how  the  giant  Tj-phon  cut  out  and 
carried  away  Jupiter's  sinews  —  which  Mercur}'  after- 
wards stole,  and  again  restored  to  Jupiter — and  not 
presently  observe  that  this  allegory  denotes  strong  and 
powerful  rebellions,  which  cut  away  from  kings  their 
sinews,  both  of  money  and  authority  ;  and  that  the  way 
to  have  them  restored  is  by  lenity,  affabilit3%  and  pru- 
dent edicts,  which  soon  reconcile,  and,  as  it  were,  steal 
upon  the  affections  of  the  subject?  Or  who,  upon 
hearing  that  memorable  expedition  of  the  gods  against 
the  giants,  when  the  bra3'ing  of  Silenus's  ass  greatly 
contributed  in  putting  the  giants  to  flight,  does  not 
clearl}'  conceive  that  this  directly  points  at  the  mon- 
strous enterprises  of  rebellious  subjects,  which  are  fre- 
quently frustrated  and  disappointed  by  vain  fears  and 
empty  rumors? 

Again,  the  conformity  and  purport  of  the  names  is 
frequently  manifest  and  self-evident.  Thus  Metis,  the 
wife  of  Jupiter,  plainly  signifies  counsel ;  Typhon, 
swelling ;  Pan,  universality  ;  Nemesis,  revenge,  &c.  Nor 
is  it  a  wonder,  if  sometimes  a  piece  of  histor}'  or  other 
things  are  introduced,  by  way  of  ornament ;  or,  if  the 
times  of  the  action  are  confounded ;  or,  if  part  of  one 
fable  be  tacked  to  another ;  or,  if  the  allegory  be  new 
turned ;  for  all  this  must  necessarily  happen,  as  the 
fables  were  the  inventions  of  men  who  lived  in  different 


320  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

ages,  and  had  different  views ;  some  of  them  being 
ancient,  others  more  modern  ;  some  having  an  eye  to 
natural  philosophy,  and  others  to  morality  or  civil 
policy. 

It  maj"^  pass  for  a  further  indication  of  a  concealed 
and  secret  meaning,  that  some  of  these  fables  are  so 
absurd  and  idle  in  their  narration,  as  to  show  and  pro- 
claim an  allegory,  even  afar  off.  A  fable  that  carries 
probabilit}'  with  it  may  be  supposed  invented  for  pleas- 
ure, or  in  imitation  of  history  ;  but  those  that  could 
never  be  conceived  or  related  in  this  way  must  surely 
have  a  different  use.  For  example,  what  a  monstrous 
fiction  is  this,  that  Jupiter  should  take  Metis  to  wife, 
and  as  soon  as  he  found  her  pregnant  eat  her  up, 
wherebj'  he  also  conceived,  and  out  of  his  head  brought 
forth  Pallas  armed.  Certainly  no  mortal  could,  but 
for  the  sake  of  the  moral  it  couches,  invent  such  an 
absurd  dream  as  this,  so  much  out  of  the  road  of 
thought ! 

But  the  argument  of  most  weight  with  me  is  this, 
that  many  of  these  fables  by  no  means  appear  to  have 
been  invented  b^^  the  persons  who  relate  and  divulge 
tliem,  whether  Homer,  Hesiod,  or  others ;  for  if  I  were 
assured  they  first  flowed  from  those  later  times  and 
authors  that  transmit  them  to  us,  I  should  never  ex- 
pect any  thing  singularlj'  great  or  noble  from  such  an 
origin.  But  whoever  attentivel}'  considers  the  tiling, 
will  find  that  these  fables  are  delivered  down  and 
related  by  those  writers,  not  as  matters  then  first 
invented  and  proposed,  but  as  things  received  and  era- 
braced  in  earlier  ages.  Besides,  as  they  are  differently 
related  bj'  writers  nearly  of  the  same  ages,  it  is  easily 


PREFACE.  321 

perceived  that  the  relators  drew  from  the  common 
stock  of  ancient  tradition,  and  varied  but  in  point  of 
embellishment,  which  is  their  own.  And  this  princi- 
pally raises  m}'  esteem  of  these  fables,  which  I  receive, 
not  as  the  product  of  the  age,  or  invention  of  the  poets, 
but  as  sacred  relics,  gentle  whispers,  and  the  breath  of 
better  times,  that  from  the  traditions  of  more  ancient 
nations  came,  at  length,  into  the  flutes  and  trumpets 
of  the  Greeks.  But  if  any  one  shall,  notwithstanding 
this,  contend  that  allegories  are  always  adventitious,  or 
imposed  upon  the  ancient  fables,  and  no  way  native  or 
genuinely  contained  in  them,  we  might  here  leave  him 
undisturbed  in  that  gravity  of  judgment  he  affects 
(though  we  cannot  help  accounting  it  somewhat  dull 
and  phlegmatic),  and,  if  it  were  worth  the  trouble, 
proceed  to  another  kind  of  argument. 

Men  have  proposed  to  answer  two  different  and  con- 
trary ends  by  the  use  of  parable  ;  for  parables  serve  as 
well  to  instruct  or  illustrate  as  to  wrap  up  and  envelop ; 
so  that  though,  for  the  present,  we  drop  the  concealed 
use,  and  suppose  the  ancient  fables  to  be  vague,  unde- 
terminate  things,  formed  for  amusement,  still,  the  other 
use  must  remain,  and  can  never  be  given  up.  And 
every  man,  of  any  learning,  must  readily  allow  that 
this  method  of  instructing  is  grave,  sober,  or  exceed- 
ingly useful,  and  sometimes  necessar}'  in  the  sciences, 
as  it  opens  an  easy  and  familiar  passage  to  the  human 
understanding,  in  all  new  discoveries  that  are  abstruse 
and  out  of  the  road  of  vulgar  opinions.  Hence,  in  the 
first  ages,  when  such  inventions  and  conclusions  of  the 
human  reason  as  are  now  trite  and  common  were  new 
and  little  known,  all  things  abounded  with  fables,  para- 
21 


322  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

bles,  similes,  comparisons,  and  allusions,  which  were 
not  intended  to  conceal,  but  to  inform  and  teach,  whilst 
the  minds  of  men  continued  rude  and  unpractised  in 
matters  of  subtilty  and  speculation,  or  even  impatient, 
and  in  a  manner  incapable  of  receiving  such  things  as 
did  not  fall  directly  under  and  strike  the  senses.  For 
as  hieroglyphics  were  in  use  before  writing,  so  were 
parables  in  use  before  arguments.  And  even  to  this 
day,  if  any  man  would  let  new  light  in  upon  the  human 
understanding,  and  conquer  prejudice,  without  raising 
contests,  animosities,  opposition,  or  disturbance,  he 
must  still  go  in  the  same  path,  and  have  recourse  to 
the  like  method  of  allegor}',  metaphor,  and  allusion. 

To  conclude,  the  knowledge  of  the  early  ages  was 
either  great  or  happy ;  great,  if  they  by  design  made 
this  use  of  trope  and  figure ;  happy,  if,  whilst  they  had 
other  views,  thej'  afforded  matter  and  occasion  to  such 
noble  contemplations.  Let  either  be  the  case,  our 
pains,  perhaps,  will  not  be  misemplo^'ed,  whether  we 
illustrate  antiquity  or  things  themselves. 

The  like,  indeed,  has  been  attempted  by  others ;  but, 
to  speak  ingenuously,  their  great  and  voluminous  labors 
have  almost  destroyed  the  energy,  the  efficacy,  and 
grace  of  the  thing ;  whilst,  being  unskilled  in  nature, 
and  their  learning  no  more  than  that  of  commonplace, 
they  have  applied  the  sense  of  the  parables  to  certain 
general  and  vulgar  matters,  without  reaching  to  their 
real  purport,  genuine  interpretation,  and  full  depth. 
For  myself,  therefore,  I  expect  to  appear  new  in  these 
common  things,  because,  leaving  untouched  such  as 
are  sufficiently  plain  and  open,  I  shall  drive  only  at 
those  that  are  either  deep  or  rich. 


THE  WISDOM   OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

A  SERIES  OF  MYTHOLOGICAL  FABLES.^ 


I.  — CASSANDRA,   OR  DIVINATION. 

EXPLAINED   OF   TOO   FREE   AND   UNSEASONABLE   ADVICE, 

The  poets  relate,  that  Apollo,  falling  in  love 
with  Cassandra,  was  still  deluded  and  put  off  by 
her,  yet  fed  with  hopes,  till  she  had  got  from  him 
the  gift  of  prophesy;  and,  having  now  obtained 
her  end,  she  flatly  rejected  his  suit.  Apollo,  unable 
to  recall  his  rash  gift,  yet  enraged  to  be  outwitted 
by  a  girl,  annexed  this  penalty  to  it,  that  though 
she  should  always  prophesy  true,  she  should  never 
be  believed ;  whence  her  divinations  were  always 
slighted,  even  when  she  again  and  again  predicted 
the  ruin  of  her  country. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  invented  to 
express  the  insignificance  of  unseasonable  advice. 
For  they  who  are  conceited,  stubborn,  or  intracta- 
ble, and  listen  not  to  the  instructions  of  Apollo,  the 
god   of  harmony,   so  as  to  learn  and  observe  the 

^  Most  of  these  fables  are  contained .  in  Ovid's  Metamorphoses 
and  Fasti,  and  are  fully  explained  in  Bohn's  Classical  Library 
translation. 


S24  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

modulations  and  measures  of  affairs,  the  sharps  and 
flats  of  discourse,  the  difference  between  judicious 
and  vulgar  ears,  and  the  proper  times  of  speech 
and  silence,  let  them  be  ever  so  intelligent,  and  ever 
so  frank  of  their  advice,  or  their  counsels  ever  so 
good  and  just,  yet  all  their  endeavors,  either  of 
persuasion  or  force,  are  of  little  significance,  and 
rather  hasten  the  ruin  of  those  they  advise.  But, 
at  last,  when  the  calamitous  event  has  made  the 
sufferers  feel  the  effect  of  their  neglect,  they  too 
late  reverence  their  advisers,  as  deep,  foreseeing, 
and  faithful  prophets. 

Of  this,  we  have  a  remarkable  instance  in  Cato 
of  Utica,  who  discovered  afar  off,  and  long  foretold, 
the  approaching  ruin  of  his  country,  both  in  the 
first  conspiracy,  and  as  it  was  prosecuted  in  the  civil 
war  between  Caesar  and  Pompey,  yet  did  no  good 
the  while,  but  rather  hurt  the  commonwealth,  and 
hurried  on  its  destruction,  which  Cicero  wisely  ob- 
served in  these  words :  "  Cato,  indeed,  judges  excel- 
lently, but  prejudices  the  state ;  for  he  speaks  as  in 
the  commonwealth  of  Plato,  and  not  as  in  the  dregs 
of  Romulus." 


IL  — TYPHON,   OR  A  REBEL. 

EXPLAINED    OF   REBELLION. 

The  fable  runs,  that  Juno,  enraged  at  Jupiter's 
bringing  forth  Pallas  without  her  assistance,  inces- 
santly solicited  all  the  gods  and  goddesses,  that  she 


TYPIION,   OR  A  REBEL.  325 

might  produce  without  Jupiter ;  and  having  by  vio- 
lence and  importunity  obtained  the  grant,  she  struck 
the  earth,  and  thence  immediately  sprung  up  Ty- 
phon,  a  huge  and  dreadful  monster,  whom  she  com- 
mitted to  the  nursing  of  a  serpent.  As  soon  as  he 
was  grown  up,  this  monster  waged  war  on  Jupiter, 
and  taking  him  prisoner,  in  the  battle,  carried  him 
away  on  his  shoulders,  into  a  remote  and  obscure 
quarter;  and  there  cutting  out  the  sinews  of  his 
hands  and  feet,  he  bore  them  olF,  leaving  Jupiter 
behind  miserably  maimed  and  mangled. 

But  Mercury  afterwards  stole  these  sinews  from 
Typhon,  and  restored  them  to  Jupiter.  Hence,  re- 
covering his  strength,  Jupiter  again  pursues  the 
monster;  first  wounds  him  with  a  stroke  of  his 
thunder,  when  serpents  arose  from  the  blood  of 
the  wound ;  and  now  the  monster  being  dismayed, 
and  taking  to  flight,  Jupiter  next  darted  Mount 
^tna  upon  him,  and  crushed  him  with  the  weight. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  designed  to 
express  the  various  fates  of  kings,  and  the  turns 
that  rebellions  sometimes  take,  in  kingdoms.  For 
princes  may  be  justly  esteemed  married  to  their 
states,  as  Jupiter  to  Juno ;  but  it  sometimes  hap- 
pens, that,  being  depraved  by  long  wielding  of  the 
sceptre,  and  growing  tyrannical,  they  would  engross 
all  to  themselves,  and,  slighting  the  counsel  of  their 
senators  and  nobles,  conceive  by  themselves ;  that 
is,  govern  according  to  their  own  arbitrary  will  and 


326  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

pleasure.  This  inflames  the  people,  and  makes  them 
endeavor  to  create  and  set  up  some  head  of  their 
own.  Such  designs  are  generally  set  on  foot  by  the 
secret  motion  and  instigation  of  the  peers  and  nobles, 
under  whose  connivance  the  common  sort  are  pre- 
pared for  rising;  whence  proceeds  a  swell  in  the 
state,  which  is  appositely  denoted  by  the  nursing 
of  Typhon.  This  growing  posture  of  affairs  is  fed 
by  the  natural  depravity  and  malignant  dispositions 
of  the  vulgar,  which  to  kings  is  an  envenomed 
serpent.  And  now  the  disaffected,  uniting  their 
force,  at  length  break  out  into  open  rebellion,  which, 
producing  infinite  mischiefs,  both  to  prince  and 
people,  is  represented  by  the  horrid  and  multiplied 
deformity  of  Typhon,  with  his  hundred  heads,  de- 
noting the  divided  powers;  his  flaming  mouths, 
denoting  fire  and  devastation;  his  girdles  of  snakes, 
denoting  sieges  and  destruction;  his  iron  hands, 
slaughter  and  cruelty;  his  eagle's  talons,  rapine 
and  plunder;  his  plumed  body,  perpetual  nmiors, 
contradictory  accounts,  &c.  And  sometimes  these 
rebellions  grow  so  high,  that  kings  are  obliged,  as 
if  carried  on  the  backs  of  the  rebels,  to  quit  the 
throne,  and  retire  to  some  remote  and  obscure  part 
of  their  dominions,  with  the  loss  of  their  sinews, 
both  of  money  and  majesty. 

But  if  now  they  prudently  bear  this  reverse  of 
fortune,  they  may,  in  a  short  time,  by  the  assistance 
of  Mercury,  recover  their  sinews  again ;  that  is, 
by  becoming  moderate  and  affable;  reconciling  the 


THE  CYCLOPS,  OR  MINISTERS  OF  TERROR.  327 

minds  and  affections  of  the  people  to  them,  by  gra- 
cious speeches  and  prudent  proclamations,  which 
will  win  over  the  subject  cheerfully  to  afford  new 
aids  and  supplies,  and  add  fresh  vigor  to  authority. 
But  prudent  and  wary  princes  here  seldom  incline  to 
try  fortune  by  a  war,  yet  do  their  utmost,  by  some 
grand  exploit,  to  crush  the  reputation  of  the  rebels ; 
and  if  the  attempt  succeeds,  the  rebels,  conscious 
of  the  wound  received,  and  distrustful  of  their  cause, 
first  betake  themselves  to  broken  and  empty  threats, 
like  the  hissings  of  serpents ;  and  next,  when  matters 
are  grown  desperate,  to  flight.  And  now,  when 
they  thus  begin  to  shrink,  it  is  safe  and  seasonable 
for  kings  to  pursue  them  with  their  forces,  and  the 
whole  strength  of  the  kingdom;  thus  effectually 
quashing  and  suppressing  them,  as  it  were  by  the 
weight  of  a  mountain. 


in. —THE  CYCLOPS,   OR  THE  MINISTERS 
OF  TERROR. 

EXPLAINED    OF   BASE   COURT   OFFICERS. 

It  is  related  that  the  Cyclops,  for  their  savage- 
ness  and  cruelty,  were  by  Jupiter  first  thrown  into 
Tartarus,  and  there  condemned  to  perpetual  impris- 
onment; but  that  afterwards  Tellus  persuaded  Ju- 
piter it  would  be  for  his  service  to  release  them, 
and  employ  them  in   forging   thunderbolts.      This 


323  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

he  accordingly  did ;  and  they,  with  unwearied  pains 
and  diligence,  hammered  out  his  bolts,  and  other 
instruments  of  terror,  with  a  frightful  and  continual 
din  of  the  anvil. 

It  happened,  long  after,  that  Jupiter  was  dis- 
pleased with  ^sculapius,  the  son  of  Apollo,  for 
having,  by  the  art  of  medicine,  restored  a  dead  man 
to  life;  but  concealing  his  indignation,  because  the 
action  in  itself  was  pious  and  illustrious,  he  secretly 
incensed  the  Cyclops  against  him,  who,  without 
remorse,  presently  slew  him  with  their  thunderbolts : 
in  revenge  whereof,  Apollo,  with  Jupiter's  conni- 
Tance,  shot  them  all  dead  with  his  arrows. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  point  at 
the  behavior  of  princes,  who,  having  cruel,  bloody, 
and  oppressive  ministers,  first  punish  and  displace 
them ;  but  afterwards,  by  the  advice  of  Tellus,  that 
is,  some  earthly-minded  and  ignoble  person,  employ 
them  again,  to  serve  a  turn,  when  there  is  occasion 
for  cruelty  in  execution,  or  severity  in  exaction ; 
but  these  ministers  being  base  in  their  nature,  whet 
by  their  former  disgrace,  and  well  aware  of  what  is 
expected  from  them,  use  double  diligence  in  their 
office ;  till,  proceeding  unwarily,  and  over-eager  to 
gain  favor,  they  sometimes,  from  the  private  nods, 
and  ambiguous  orders  of  their  prince,  perform  some 
odious  or  execrable  action :  when  princes,  to  decline 
the  envy  themselves,  and  knowing  they  shall  never 
want  such  tools  at  their  back,  drop  them,  and  give 


NAKCISSUS,  OR  SELF-LOVE.  329 

them  up  to  the  friends  and  followers  of  the  injured 
person ;  thus  exposing  them,  as  sacrifices  to  revenge 
and  popular  odium :  whence,  with  great  applause, 
acclamations,  and  good  wishes  to  the  prince,  these 
miscreants  at  last  meet  with  their  desert. 


IV.  — NARCISSUS,  OR  SELF-LOVE. 

Narcissus  is  said  to  have  been  extremely  beautiful 
and  comely,  but  intolerably  proud  and  disdainful ;  so 
that,  pleased  with  himself,  and  scorning  the  world, 
he  led  a  solitary  life  in  the  woods  ;  hunting  only 
with  a  few  followers,  who  were  his  professed  admirers, 
amongst  whom  the  nymph  Echo  was  his  constant  at- 
tendant. In  this  method  of  life,  it  was  once  his  fate 
to  approach  a  clear  fountain,  where  he  laid  himself 
down  to  rest,  in  the  noonday  heat ;  when,  beholding 
his  image  in  the  water,  he  fell  into  such  a  rapture  and 
admiration  of  himself,  that  he  could  by  no  means  be 
got  away,  but  remained  continually  fixed  and  gazing, 
till  at  length  he  was  turned  into  a  flower,  of  his  own 
name,  which  appears  early  in  the  spring,  and  is  con- 
secrated to  the  infernal  deities,  Pluto,  Proserpine,  and 
the  Furies. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  paint  the  be- 
havior and  fortune  of  those,  who,  for  their  beauty,  or 
other  endowments,  wherewith   nature  (without  any 


330  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

industry  of  their  own)  has  graced  and  adorned  them, 
are  extravagantly  fond  of  themselves :  for  men  of  such 
a  disposition  generally  affect  retirement,  and  absence 
from  public  affairs ;  as  a  life  of  business  must  neces- 
sarily subject  them  to  many  neglects  and  contempts, 
which  might  disturb  and  ruffle  their  minds :  whence 
such  persons  commonly  lead  a  solitary,  private,  and 
shadowy  life  :  see  little  company,  and  those  only  such 
as  highly  admire  and  reverence  them ;  or,  like  an 
echo,  assent  to  all  they  say. 

And  they  who  are  depraved,  and  rendered  still 
fonder  of  themselves  by  this  custom,  grow  strangely 
indolent,  inactive,  and  perfectly  stupid.  The  Narcis- 
sus, a  spring  flower,  is  an  elegant  emblem  of  this 
temper,  which  at  first  flourishes,  and  is  talked  of, 
but,  when  ripe,  frustrates  the  expectation  conceived 
of  it. 

And  that  this  flower  should  be  sacred  to  the  infer- 
nal powers,  carries  out  the  allusion  still  further  ;  be- 
cause men  of  this  humor  are  perfectly  useless  in  all 
respects :  for  whatever  yields  no  fruit,  but  passes,  and 
is  no  more,  like  the  way  of  a  ship  in  the  sea,  was  by 
the  ancients  consecrated  to  the  infernal  shades  and 
powers. 


THE  RIVER  STYX,  OR  LEAGUES.         331 


v.  — THE  RIVER  STYX,  OR  LEAGUES. 

EXPLAINED    OF   NECESSITY,    IN  THE   OATHS    OR   SOLEMN 
LEAGUES    OF    PRINCES. 

The  only  solemn  oath,  by  which  the  gods  irrevoca- 
bly  obliged  themselves,  is  a  well  known  thing,  and 
makes  a  part  of  many  ancient  fables.  To  this  oath 
they  did  not  invoke  any  celestial  divinity,  or  divine 
attribute^  but  only  called  to  witness  the  River  Styx, 
which,  with  many  meanders,  surrounds  the  infernal 
court  of  Dis.  For  this  form  alone,  and  none  but  this, 
was  held  inviolable  and  obligatory ;  and  the  punish- 
ment of  falsifying  it,  was  that  dreaded  one  of  being 
excluded,  for  a  certain  number  of  years,  the  table  of 
the  gods. 

Explanation. —  This  fable  seems  invented  to  show 
the  nature  of  the  compacts  and  confederacies  of  prin- 
ces ;  which,  though  ever  so  solemnly  and  religiously 
sworn  to,  prove  but  little  the  more  binding  for  it : 
so  that  oaths,  in  this  case,  seem  used  rather  for  de- 
corum, reputation,  and  ceremony,  than  for  fidelity, 
security,  and  effectuating.  And  though  these  oaths 
were  strengthened  with  the  bonds  of  affinity,  which 
are  the  links  and  ties  of  nature,  and  again,  by  mutual 
services  and  good  offices,  yet  we  see  all  this  will  gen- 
erally give  way  to  ambition,  convenience,  and  the 
thirst  of  power:  the  rather,  because  it  is  easy  for 
princes,  under  various  specious  pretences,  to  defend, 


332  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

disguise,  and  conceal  their  ambitious  desires  and  in- 
sincerity, having  no  judge  to  call  them  to  account. 
There  is,  however,  one  true  and  proper  confirmation 
of  their  faith,  though  no  celestial  divinity,  but  that 
great  divinity  of  princes,  Necessity ;  or,  the  danger 
of  the  state ;  and  the  securing  of  advantage. 

This  necessity  is  elegantly  represented  by  Styx,  the 
fatal  river  that  can  never  be  crossed  back.  And  this 
deity  it  was,  which  Iphicrates  the  Athenian  invoked 
in  making  a  league ;  and  because  he  roundly  and 
openly  avows  what  most  others  studiously  conceal,  it 
may  be  proper  to  give  his  own  words.  Observing 
that  the  Lacedaemonians  were  inventing  and  propos- 
ing a  variety  of  securities,  sanctions,  and  bonds  of 
alliance,  he  interrupted  them  thus  :  "  There  may,  in- 
deed, my  friends,  be  one  bond  and  means  of  security 
between  us ;  and  that  is,  for  you  to  demonstrate  you 
have  delivered  into  our  hands,  such  things  as  that,  if 
you  had  the  greatest  desire  to  hurt  us,  you  could  not 
be  able."  Therefore,  if  the  power  of  offending  be 
taken  away,  or  if,  by  a  breach  of  compact,  there  be 
danger  of  destruction  or  diminution  to  the  state  or  trib- 
ute, then  it  is  that  covenants  will  be  ratified,  and 
confirmed,  as  it  were  by  the  Stygian  oath,  whilst 
there  remains  an  impending  danger  of  being  prohib- 
ited and  excluded  the  banquet  of  the  gods  ;  by  which 
expression  the  ancients  denoted  the  rights  and  pre- 
rogatives, the  affluence  and  the  felicities,  of  empire 
and  dominion. 


PAN,  OR  NATURE.  SdZ 

VI.  — PAN,  OR  NATURE.  1 

EXPLAINED    OF   NATURAL   PHILOSOPHY. 

The  ancients  have,  with  great  exactness,  delineated 
universal  nature  under  the  person  of  Pan.  They 
leave  his  origin  doubtful ;  some  asserting  him  the  son 
of  Mercury,  and  others  the  common  offspring  of  all 
Penelope's  suitors.  The  latter  supposition  doubtless 
occasioned  some  later  rivals  to  entitle  this  ancient 
fable  Penelope  ;  a  thing  frequently  practised  when 
the  earlier  relations  are  applied  to  more  modern 
characters  and  persons,  though  sometimes  with  great 
absurdity  and  ignorance,  as  in  the  present  case ;  for 
Pan  was  one  of  the  ancientest  gods,  and  long  before 
the  time  of  Ulysses ;  besides,  Penelope  was  venerated 
by  antiquity  for  her  matronal  chastity.  A  third  sort 
will  have  him  the  issue  of  Jupiter  and  Hybris,  that  is, 
Reproach.  But  whatever  his  origin  was,  the  Desti- 
nies are  allowed  his  sisters. 

He  is  described  by  antiquity,  with  pyramidal  horns 
reaching  up  to  heaven,  a  rough  and  shaggy  body,  a 
very  long  beard,  of  a  biform  figure,  human  above,  half 
brute  below,  ending  in  goat's  feet.  His  arms,  or  en- 
signs of  power,  are,  a  pipe  in  his  left  hand,  composed 
of  seven  reeds  ;  in  his  right  a  crook ;  and  he  wore  for 
his  mantle  a  leopard's  skin. 

His  attributes  and  titles  were  the  god  of  hunters, 

1  Homer's  Hymn  to  Pan. 


334  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

shepherds,  and  all  the  rural  inhabitants ;  president 
of  the  mountains ;  and,  after  Mercury,  the  next  mes- 
senger of  the  gods.  He  was  also  held  the  leader  and 
ruler  of  the  Nymphs,  who  continually  danced  and 
frisked  about  him,  attended  with  the  Satyrs  and  their 
elders,  the  Sileni.  He  had  also  the  power  of  striking 
terrors,  especially  such  as  were  vain  and  superstitious  ; 
whence  they  came  to  be  called  panic  terrors.  ^ 

Few  actions  are  recorded  of  him  ;  only  a  principal 
one  is,  that  he  challenged  Cupid  at  wrestling,  and 
was  worsted.  He  also  catched  the  giant  Typhon 
in  a  net,  and  held  him  fast.  They  relate  further  of 
him,  that  when  Ceres,  growing  disconsolate  for  the 
rape  of  Proserpine,  hid  herself,  and  all  the  gods 
took  the  utmost  pains  to  find  her,  by  going  out  dif- 
ferent ways  for  that  purpose,  Pan  only  had  the  good 
fortune  to  meet  her,  as  he  was  hunting,  and  discov- 
ered her  to  the  rest.  He  likemse  had  the  assurance 
to  rival  Apollo  in  music,  and  in  the  judgment  of 
Midas  was  preferred;  but  the  judge  had,  though 
with  great  privacy  and  secrecy,  a  pair  of  ass's  ears 
fastened  on  him  for  his  sentence.^ 

There  is  very  little  said  of  his  amours;  which 
may  seem  strange  among  such  a  multitude  of  gods, 
so  profusely  amorous.  He  is  only  reported  to  have 
been  very  fond  of  Echo,  who  was  also  esteemed 
his  wife ;  and  one  nymph  more,  called  Syrinx,  with 
the  love  of  whom  Cupid  inflamed  him  for  his  in- 
solent challenge;  so   he  is  reported  once  to  have 

*  Cicero,  Epistle  to  Atticus,  5.        '  Ovid,  Metamorphoses,  b.  ii 


PAN,   OR  NATURE.  335 

solicited  the  moon  to  accompany  him  apart  into  the 
deep  woods. 

Lastly,  Pan  had  no  descendant,  which  also  is  a 
wonder,  when  the  male  gods  were  so  extremely 
prolific ;  only  he  was  the  reputed  father  of  a  servant- 
girl  called  lambe,  who  used  to  divert  strangers  with 
her  ridiculous  prattling  stories. 

This  fable  is  perhaps  the  noblest  of  all  antiquity, 
and  pregnant  with  the  mysteries  and  secrets  ot 
nature.  Pan,  as  the  name  imports,  represents  the 
universe,  about  whose  origin  there  are  two  opinions, 
viz :  that  it  either  sprung  from  Mercury,  that  is, 
the  divine  word,  according  to  the  Scriptures  and 
philosophical  divines,  or  from  the  confused  seeds 
of  things.  For  they  who  allow  only  one  beginning 
of  all  things,  either  ascribe  it  to  God,  or,  if  they 
suppose  a  material  beginning,  acknowledge  it  to  be 
various  in  its  powers ;  so  that  the  whole  dispute 
comes  to  these  points,  viz :  either  that  nature  pro- 
ceeds from  Mercury,  or  from  Penelope  and  all  her 
suitors."  ^ 

The  third  origin  of  Pan  seems  borrowed  by  the 
Greeks  from  the  Hebrew  mysteries,  either  by  means 
of  the  Egyptians,  or  otherwise ;  for  it  relates  to  the 

1  This  refers  to  the  confused  mixture  of  things,  as  sung  by 
Virgil  :  — 

"Namque  canebat  uti  magnum  per  inane  coacta 
Semina  terrarumque  animpeque  marisque  fuissent ; 
Et  liquidi  simul  ignis  ;  ut  his  exordia  primis 
Omnia,  et  ipse  tener  mundi  concreverit  orbis."  — 

Ed.  vi.  81. 


336  WISDOM  OF  THE  .ANCIENTS. 

state  of  the  world,  not  in  its  first  creation,  but  as 
made  subject  to  death  and  corruption  after  the  fall ; 
and  in  this  state  it  was  and  remains,  the  offspring 
of  God  and  Sin,  or  Jupiter  and  Reproach.  And 
therefore  these  three  several  accounts  of  Pan's  birth 
may  seem  true,  if  duly  distinguished  in  respect  of 
things  and  times.  For  this  Pan,  or  the  universal 
nature  of  things,  which  we  view  and  contemplate, 
had  its  origin  from  the  divine  word  and  confused 
matter,  first  created  by  God  himself,  with  the 
subsequent  introduction  of  sin,  and,  consequently, 
corruption. 

The  Destinies,  or  the  natures  and  fates  of  things, 
are  justly  made  Pan's  sisters,  as  the  chain  of  natu- 
ral causes  links  together  the  rise,  duration,  and  cor- 
ruption ;  the  exaltation,  degeneration,  and  workings  ; 
the  processes,  the  effects,  and  changes,  of  all  that 
can  any  way  happen  to  things. 

Horns  are  given  him,  broad  at  the  roots,  but 
narrow  and  sharp  at  the  top,  because  the  nature  of 
all  things  seems  pyramidal ;  for  individuals  are  infi- 
nite, but  being  collected  into  a  variety  of  species, 
they  rise  up  into  kinds,  and  these  again  ascend,  and 
are  contracted  into  generals,  till  at  length  nature 
may  seem  collected  to  a  point.  And  no  wonder  if 
Pan's  horns  reach  to  the  heavens,  since  the  sublim- 
ities of  nature,  or  abstract  ideas,  reach  in  a  manner 
to  things  divine;  for  there  is  a  short  and  ready 
passage  from  metaphysics  to  natural  theology. 

Pan's  body,  or  the  body  of  nature,  is,  with  great 


PAN,  OR  NATURE.  337 

propriety  and  elegance,  painted  shaggy  and  hairy, 
as  representing  the  rays  of  things;  for  rays  are  as 
the  hair  or  fleece  of  nature,  and  more  or  less  worn 
by  all  bodies.  This  evidently  appears  in  vision, 
and  in  all  effects  and  operations  at  a  distance ;  for 
whatever  operates  thus,  may  be  properly  said  to 
emit  rays.^  But  particularly  the  beard  of  Pan  is 
exceeding  long,  because  the  rays  of  the  celestial 
bodies  penetrate,  and  act  to  a  prodigious  distance, 
and  have  descended  into  the  interior  of  the  earth, 
so  far  as  to  change  its  surface ;  and  the  sun  himself, 
when  clouded  on  its  upper  part,  appears  to  the  eye 
bearded. 

Again,  the  body  of  natui-e  is  justly  described 
biform,  because  of  the  difference  between  its  supe- 
rior and  inferior  parts,  as  the  former,  for  their 
beauty,  regularity  of  motion,  and  influence  over  the 
earth,  may  be  properly  represented  by  the  human 
figure,  and  the  latter,  because  of  their  disorder,  ir- 
regularity, and  subjection  to  the  celestial  bodies,  are 
by  the  brutal.  This  biform  figure  also  represents  the 
participation  of  one  species  with  another ;  for  there 
appear  to  be  no  simple  natures,  but  all  participate 
or  consist  of  two :  thus,  man  has  somewhat  of  the 
brute,  the  brute  somewhat  of  the  plant,  the  plant 
somewhat  of  the  mineral ;  so  that  all  natural  bodies 


1  This  is  always  supposed  to  be  the  case  in  vision,  the  mathe- 
matical demonstrations  in  optics  proceeding  invariably  upon  the 
assumption  of  this  phenomenon. 
22 


338  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

have  really  two  faces,  or  consist  of  a  superior  and 
an  inferior  species. 

There  lies  a  curious  allegory  in  the  making  of 
Pan  goat-footed,  on  account  of  the  motion  of  ascent 
which  the  terrestrial  bodies  have  towards  the  air 
and  heavens ;  for  the  goat  is  a  clambering  creature, 
that  delights  in  climbing  up  rocks  and  precipices ; 
and  in  the  same  manner  the  matters  destined  to  this 
lower  globe  strongly  affect  to  rise  upwards,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  clouds  and  meteors. 

Pan's  arms,  or  the  ensigns  he  bears  in  his  hands, 
are  of  two  kinds  —  the  one  an  emblem  of  harmony, 
the  other  of  empire.  His  pipe,  composed  of  seven 
reeds,  plainly  denotes  the  consent  and  harmony,  or 
the  concords  and  discords  of  things,  produced  by 
the  motion  of  the  seven  planets.  His  crook,  also, 
contains  a  fine  representation  of  the  ways  of  nature, 
which  are  partly  straight  and  partly  crooked ;  thus 
the  staff,  having  an  extraordinary  bend  towards  the 
top,  denotes  that  the  works  of  Divine  Providence 
are  generally  brought  about  by  remote  means,  or  iu 
a  circuit,  as  if  somewhat  else  were  intended  rather 
than  the  effect  produced,  as  in  the  sending  of  Joseph 
into  Egypt,  &c.  So  likewise  in  human  goverment, 
they  who  sit  at  the  helm,  manage  and  wind  the 
people  more  successfully  by  pretext  and  oblique 
courses,  than  they  could  by  such  as  are  direct  and 
straight;  so  that,  in  effect,  all  sceptres  are  crooked 
at  the  top. 

Pan's  mantle,  or  clothing,  is  with  great  ingenuity 


PAN,  OR  NATURE.  339 

made  of  a  leopard's  skin,  because  of  the  spots  it  has  ; 
for  in  like  manner  the  heavens  are  sprinkled  with 
stars,  the  sea  with  islands,  the  earth  with  flowers, 
and  almost  each  particular  thing  is  variegated,  or 
wears  a  mottled  coat. 

The  office  of  Pan  could  not  be  more  livelily  ex- 
pressed than  by  making  him  the  god  of  hunters ;  for 
every  natural  action,  every  motion  and  process,  is  no 
other  than  a  chase.  Thus  arts  and  sciences  hunt  out 
their  works,  and  human  schemes  and  counsels  their 
several  ends  ;  and  all  living  creatures  either  hunt  out 
their  aliment,  pursue  their  prey,  or  seek  their  pleas- 
ures, and  this  in  a  skilful  and  sagacious  manner.^ 
He  is  also  styled  the  god  of  the  rural  inhabitants,  be- 
cause men  in  this  situation  live  more  according  to 
nature  than  they  do  in  cities  and  courts,  where  nature 
is  so  corrupted  with  effeminate  arts,  that  the  saying 
of  the  poet  may  be  verified :  — 

—  pars  minima  est  ipsa  puella  sui.2 

He  is  likewise  particularly  styled  President  of  the 
Mountains,  because  in  mountains  and  lofty  places 
the  nature  of  things  lies  more  open  and  exposed  to 
the  eye  and  the  understanding. 

In  his  being  called  the  messenger  of  the  gods,  next 
after  Mercury,  lies  a  divine  allegory,  as  next  after  the 
Word  of  God,  the  image  of  the  world  is  the  herald  of 

1  "  Torva  leaina  lupum  sequitnr,  lupus  ipse  capellam  : 
Florentem  cytisum  sequitur  lasciva  capella." 

Virgil,  Eel.  iL  63. 
*  Ovid,  Rem.  Amoris,  v.  843.     Mart.  Epist. 


340  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

the  Divine  power  and  wisdom,  according  to  the  ex- 
pression of  the  Psalmist :  "  The  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handi- 
work." i 

Pan  is  delighted  with  the  company  of  the  Nymphs, 
that  is,  the  souls  of  all  living  creatures  are  the  delight 
of  the  world ;  and  he  is  properly  called  their  gov- 
ernor, because  each  of  them  follows  its  own  nature, 
as  a  leader,  and  all  dance  about  their  own  respective 
rings,  with  infinite  variety  and  never-ceasing  motion. 
And  with  these  continually  join  the  Satyrs  and  Sileni, 
that  is,  youth  and  age  ;  for  all  things  have  a  kind  of 
young,  cheerful,  and  dancing  time ;  and  again  their 
time  of  slowness,  tottering,  and  creeping.  And  who- 
ever, in  a  true  light,  considers  the  motions  and  en- 
deavors of  both  these  ages,  like  another  Democritus, 
will  perhaps  find  them  as  odd  and  strange  as  the 
gesticulations  and  antic  motions  of  the  Satyrs  and 
Sileni. 

The  power  he  had  of  striking  terrors  contains  a 
very  sensible  doctrine ;  for  nature  has  implanted  fear 
in  all  li\dng  creatures,  as  well  to  keep  them  from  risk- 
ing their  lives,  as  to  guard  against  injuries  and  vio- 
lence ;  and  yet  this  nature  or  passion  keeps  not  its 
bounds,  but  with  just  and  profitable  fears  always 
mixes  such  as  are  vain  and  senseless ;  so  that  all 
things,  if  we  could  see  their  insides,  would  appear 
full  of  panic  terrors.  Thus  mankind,  particularly  the 
vulgar,  labor  under  a  high   degree  of  superstition, 

1  fsalm  xix.  1. 


PAN,  OR  NATURE.  341 

which  is  nothing  more  than  a  panic-dread,  that 
principally  reigns  in  unsettled  and  troublesome  times. 

The  presumption  of  Pan  in  challenging  Cupid  to 
the  conflict  denotes  that  matter  has  an  appetite  and 
tendency  to  a  dissolution  of  the  world,  and  falling 
back  to  its  first  chaos  again,  unless  this  depravity  and 
inclination  were  restrained  and  subdued  by  a  more 
powerful  concord  and  agreement  of  things,  properly 
expressed  by  Love,  or  Cupid :  it  is  therefore  well  for 
mankind,  and  the  state  of  all  things,  that  Pan  was 
thrown  and  conquered  in  the  stmggle. 

His  catching  and  detaining  Typhon  in  the  net  re- 
ceives a  similar  explanation ;  for  whatever  vast  and 
unusual  swells,  which  the  word  typhon  signifies,  may 
sometimes  be  raised  in  nature,  as  in  the  sea,  the  clouds, 
the  earth,  or  the  like,  yet  nature  catches,  entangles, 
and  holds  all  such  outrages  and  insurrections  in  her 
inextricable  net,  wove,  as  it  were,  of  adamant. 

That  part  of  the  fable  which  attributes  the  discovery 
of  lost  Ceres  to  Pan  whilst  he  was  hunting  —  a  hap- 
piness denied  the  other  gods,  though  they  diligently 
and  expressly  sought  her  —  contains  an  exceeding  just 
and  pnident  admonition  ;  viz  :  that  we  are  not  to  ex- 
pect the  discovery  of  things  useful  in  common  life,  as 
that  of  com,  denoted  by  Ceres,  from  abstract  philos- 
ophies, as  if  these  were  the  gods  of  the  first  order,  — 
no,  not  though  we  used  our  utmost  endeavors  this 
way,  —  but  only  from  Pan  ;  that  is,  a  sagacious  ex- 
perience and  general  knowledge  of  nature,  which  is 
often  found,  even  by  accident,  to  stumble  upon  such 


342  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

discoveries  whilst  the  pursuit  was  directed  another 
way. 

The  event  of  his  contending  with  Apollo  in  music 
affords  us  a  useful  instruction,  that  may  help  to  hum- 
ble the  human  reason  and  judgment,  which  is  too 
apt  to  boast  and  glory  in  itself.  There  seem  to  be 
two  kinds  of  harmony,  —  the  one  of  Divine  provi- 
dence, the  other  of  human  reason ;  but  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  the  administration  of  its  affairs, 
and  the  more  secret  Divine  judgments,  sound  harsh 
and  dissonant  to  human  ears  or  human  judgment; 
and  though  this  ignorance  be  justly  rewarded  with 
asses'  ears,  yet  they  are  put  on  and  worn,  not  openly, 
but  with  great  secrecy ;  nor  is  the  deformity  of  the 
thing  seen  or  observed  by  the  vulgar. 

We  must  not  find  it  strange  if  no  amours  are  re- 
lated of  Pan  besides  his  marriage  with  Echo;  for 
nature  enjoys  itself,  and  in  itself  all  other  things.  He 
that  loves,  desires  enjoyment,  but  in  profusion  there  is 
no  room  for  desire ;  and  therefore  Pan,  remaining 
content  with  himself,  has  no  passion  unless  it  be  for 
discourse,  which  is  well  shadowed  out  by  Echo,  or 
talk,  or,  when  it  is  more  accurate,  by  Syrinx,  or  writ- 
ing.^ But  Echo  makes  a  most  excellent  wife  for  Pan, 
as  being  no  other  than  genuine  philosophy,  which 
faithfully  repeats  his  words,  or  only  transcribes  ex- 
actly as  nature  dictates;  thus  representing  the  true 
image  and  reflection  of  the  world  without  adding  a 
tittle. 

1  Syrinx,  signifying  a  reed,  or  the  ancient  pen. 


PERSEUS,  OR  WAR.  343 

It  tends,  also,  to  the  support  and  perfection  of 
Pan,  or  nature,  to  be  without  offspring ;  for  the  world 
generates  in  its  parts,  and  not  in  the  way  of  a  whole, 
as  wanting  a  body  external  to  itself  wherewith  to 
generate. 

Lastly,  for  the  supposed  or  spurious  prattling 
daughter  of  Pan,  it  is  an  excellent  addition  to  the 
fable,  and  aptly  represents  the  talkative  philosophies 
that  have  at  all  times  been  stirring,  and  filled  the 
world  with  idle  tales ;  being  ever  barren,  empty,  and 
iiervile,  though  sometimes  indeed  diverting  and  en- 
tertaining, and  sometimes  again  troublesome  and 
importunate. 


Vir.  — PERSEUS,!   OR  WAR. 

EXPLAIKED   OF   THE   PREPARATION   AND   CONDUCT 
NECESSARY  TO   WAR, 

"The  fable  relates,  that  Perseus  was  dispatched 
from  the  east,  by  Pallas,  to  cut  off  Medusa's  head, 
who  had  committed  great  ravage  upon  the  people  of 
the  west ;  for  this  Medusa  was  so  dire  a  monster,  as 
to  turn  into  stone  all  those  who  but  looked  upon  her. 
She  was  a  Gorgon,  and  the  only  mortal  one  of  the 
three,  the  other  two  being  invulnerable.  Perseus, 
therefore,  preparing  himself  for  this  grand  enter- 
prise,  had  presents   made   him   from   three  of  the 

1  Ovid,  Metam.  b.  iv. 


344  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

gods :  Mercury  gave  him  wings  for  his  heels ;  Pluto, 
a  helmet ;  and  Pallas,  a  shield  and  a  mirror.  But, 
though  he  was  now  so  well  equipped,  he  posted  not 
directly  to  Medusa,  but  first  turned  aside  to  the 
Grese,  who  were  half-sisters  to  the  Gorgons.  These 
Grese  were  grayheaded,  and  like  old  women,  fi-ora 
their  birth,  having  among  them  all  three  but  one  eye, 
and  one  tooth,  which,  as  they  had  occasion  to  go  out, 
they  each  wore  by  turns,  and  laid  them  down  again 
upon  coming  back.  This  eye  and  this  tooth  they 
lent  to  Perseus,  who  now  judging  himself  sufficiently 
furnished,  he,  without  further  stop,  flies  swiftly 
away  to  Medusa,  and  finds  her  asleep.  But  not 
venturing  his  eyes,  for  fear  she  should  wake,  he 
turned  his  head  aside,  and  viewed  her  in  Pall  ass 
mirror,  and  thus  directing  his  stroke,  cut  off"  her 
head;  when  immediately,  from  the  gushing  blood, 
there  darted  Pegasus  winged.  Perseus  now  in- 
serted Medusa's  head  into  Pallas's  shield,  which 
thence  retained  the  faculty  of  astonishing  and  be- 
numbing all  who  looked  on  it." 

This  fable  seems  invented  to  show  the  prudent 
method  of  choosing,  undertaking,  and  conducting  a 
war;  and,  accordingly,  lays  down  three  useful  pre- 
cepts about  it,  as  if  they  were  the  precepts  of  Pallas. 

The  first  is,  that  no  prince  should  be  over-solicit- 
ous to  subdue  a  neighboring  nation  ;  for  the  method 
of  enlarging  an  empire  is  very  different  from  that 
of  increasing  an  estate.  Regard  is  justly  had  to 
contiguity,  or  adjacency,  in  private  lands  and  pos- 


PERSEUS,  OR  WAR.  345 

sessions ;  but  in  the  extending  of  empire,  the  occa- 
sion, the  facility,  and  advantage  of  a  war,  are  to  be 
regarded  instead  of  vicinity.  It  is  certain  that  the 
Romans,  at  the  time  they  stretched  but  little  beyond 
Liguria  to  the  west,  had  by  their  arms  subdued  the 
provinces  as  far  as  Mount  Taurus  to  the  east.  And 
thus  Perseus  readily  undertook  a  very  long  expe- 
dition, even  from  the  east  to  the  extremities  of  the 
west. 

The  second  precept  is,  that  the  cause  of  the  war 
be  just  and  honorable;  for  this  adds  alacrity  both 
to  the  soldiers,  and  the  people  who  find  the  supplies ; 
procures  aids,  alliances,  and  numerous  other  con- 
veniences. Now  there  is  no  cause  of  war  more  just 
and  laudable  than  the  suppressing  of  tyranny;  by 
which  a  people  are  dispirited,  benumbed,  or  left 
without  life  and  vigor,  as  at  the  sight  of  Medusa. 

Lastly,  it  is  prudently  added,  that,  as  there  were 
three  of  the  Gorgons,  who  represent  war,  Perseus 
singled  her  out  for  this  expedition  that  was  mortal ; 
which  affords  this  precept,  that  such  kind  of  wars 
should  be  chose  as  may  be  brought  to  a  conclusion 
without  pursuing  vast  and  infinite  hopes. 

Again,  Perseus's  setting-out  is  extremely  well 
adapted  to  his  undertaking,  and  in  a  manner  com- 
mands success ;  he  received  dispatch  from  Mercury, 
secrecy  from  Pluto,  and  foresight  from  Pallas.  It 
also  contains  an  excellent  allegory,  that  the  wings 
given  him  by  Mercury  were  for  his  heels,  not  for 
his  shoulders;  because  expedition  is  not  so  much 


346  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

required  in  the  first  preparations  for  war,  as  in  the 
subsequent  matters,  that  administer  to  the  first ;  for 
there  is  no  error  more  frequent  in  war,  than,  after 
brisk  preparations,  to  halt  for  subsidiary  forces  and 
effective  supplies. 

The  allegory  of  Pluto's  helmet,  rendering  men 
invisible  and  secret,  is  sufficiently  evident  of  itself ; 
but  the  mystery  of  the  shield  and  the  mirror  lies 
deeper ;  and  denotes,  that  not  only  a  prudent  caution 
must  be  had  to  defend,  like  the  shield,  but  also  such 
an  address  and  penetration  as  may  discover  the 
strength,  the  motions,  the  counsels,  and  designs  of 
the  enemy;  like  the  mirror  of  Pallas. 

But  though  Perseus  may  now  seem  extremely 
well  prepared,  there  still  remains  the  most  impor- 
tant thing  of  all ;  before  he  enters  upon  the  war,  he 
must  of  necessity  consult  the  Greae.  These  Grese 
are  treasons ;  half,  but  degenerate  sisters  of  the  Gor- 
gons;  who  are  representatives  of  wars;  for  wars 
are  generous  and  noble ;  but  treasons  base  and  vile. 
The  Grese  are  elegantly  described  as  hoary-headed, 
and  like  old  women  from  their  birth ;  on  account  of 
tlie  perpetual  cares,  fears,  and  trepidations  attend- 
ing traitors.  Their  force,  also,  before  it  breaks  out 
into  open  revolt,  consists  either  in  an  eye  or  a  tooth ; 
for  all  faction,  alienated  from  a  state,  is  both  watch- 
ful and  biting;  and  this  eye  and  tooth  are,  as  it 
were,  common  to  all  the  disaffected  ;  because  what- 
ever they  learn  and  know  is  transmitted  from  one 
to  another,  as  by  the  hands  of  faction.      And  for 


PERSEUS,  OR  WAR.  347 

the  tooth,  they  all  bite  with  the  same :  and  clamor 
with  one  throat;  so  that  each  of  them  singly  ex- 
presses the  multitude. 

These  Grese,  therefore,  must  be  prevailed  upon 
by  Perseus  to  lend  him  their  eye  and  their  tooth ; 
the  eye  to  give  him  indications,  and  make  discov- 
eries ;  the  tooth  for  sowing  rumors,  raising  envy, 
and  stirring  up  the  minds  of  the  people.  And  when 
all  these  things  are  thus  disposed  and  prepared,  then 
follows  the  action  of  the  war. 

He  finds  Medusa  asleep ;  for  whoever  undertakes 
a  war  with  prudence,  generally  falls  upon  the 
enemy  unprepared,  and  nearly  in  a  state  of  security ; 
and  here  is  the  occasion  for  Pallas's  mirror:  for  it 
is  common  enough,  before  the  danger  presents  itself, 
to  see  exactly  into  the  state  and  posture  of  the 
enemy ;  but  the  principal  use  of  the  glass  is,  in  the 
very  instant  of  danger,  to  discover  the  manner 
thereof,  and  prevent  consternation;  which  is  the 
thing  intended  by  Perseus's  turning  his  head  aside, 
and  viewing  the  enemy  in  the  glass.^ 

Two  eiFects  here  follow  the  conquest:  1.  The 
darting  forth  of  Pegasus ;  which  evidently  denotes 
fame,  that  flies  abroad,  proclaiming  the  victory  far 
and  near.  2.  The  bearing  of  Medusa's  head  in  the 
shield,  which  is  the  greatest  possible  defence  and 

^  Thus  it  is  the  excellence  of  a  general,  early  to  discover  what 
turn  the  battle  is  likely  to  take  ;  and  looking  prudently  behind,  as 
well  as  before,  to  pursue  a  victory  so  as  not  to  be  unprovided  for  a 
retreat. 


348  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

safeguard ;  for  one  grand  and  memorable  enterprise, 
happily  accomplished,  bridles  all  the  motions  and 
attempts  of  the  enemy,  stupefies  disafiection,  and 
quells  commotions. 


VIII.— END YMION,  OR  A  FAVORITE. 

EXPLAINED  OF  COURT  FAVORITES. 

The  goddess  Luna  is  said  to  have  fallen  in  love 
with  the  shepherd  Endymion,  and  to  have  carried 
on  her  amours  with  him  in  a  new  and  smgular  man- 
ner ;  it  being  her  custom,  whilst  he  lay  reposing  in 
his  native  cave,  under  Mount  Latmus,  to  descend 
frequently  from  her  sphere,  enjoy  his  company  whilst 
he  slept,  and  then  go  up  to  heaven  again.  And  all 
this  while,  Endymion's  fortune  was  no  way  prejudiced 
by  his  unactive  and  sleepy  life,  the  goddess  causing 
his  flocks  to  thrive,  and  grow  so  exceeding  numerous, 
that  none  of  the  other  shepherds  could  compare 
with  him. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  describe  the 
tempers  and  dispositions  of  princes,  who,  being 
thoughtful  and  suspicious,  do  not  easily  admit  to 
their  privacies  such  men  as  are  prying,  curious,  and 
vigilant,  or,  as  it  were,  sleepless;  but  rather  such 
as  are  of  an  easy,  obliging  nature,  and  indulge  them 
in  their  pleasures,  without  seeking  anything  further ; 


ENDYMION,  OR  A  FAVORITE.  349 

but  seeming  ignorant,  insensible,  or,  as  it  were, 
lulled  asleep  before  them.^  Princes  usually  treat 
such  persons  familiarly;  and  quitting  their  throne, 
like  Luna,  think  they  may,  with  safety,  unbosom  to 
them.  This  temper  was  very  remarkable  in  Tiberius, 
a  prince  exceedingly  difficult  to  please,  and  who  had 
no  favorites  but  those  that  perfectly  understood  his 
way,  and,  at  the  same  time,  obstinately  dissembled 
their  knowledge,  almost  to  a  degree  of  stupidity. 

The  cave  is  not  improperly  mentioned  in  the 
fable ;  it  being  a  common  thing  for  the  favorites  of 
a  prince  to  have  their  pleasant  retreats,  whither  to 
invite  him,  by  way  of  relaxation,  though  without 
prejudice  to  their  own  fortunes;  these  favorites 
usually  making  a  good  provision  for  themselves. 

For  though  their  prince  should  not,  perhaps,  pro- 
mote them  to  dignities,  yet,  out  of  real  affection,  and 
not  only  for  convenience,  they  generally  feel  the 
enriching  influence  of  his  bounty. 

1  It  may  be  remembered  that  the  Athenian  peasant  voted  for 
the   banishment   of  Aristides,   because   he  was   called   the   Just. 
Shakspeare  forcibly  expresses  the  same  thought  :  — 
"  Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  fat; 

Sleek-headed  men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights : 

Yond  Cassias  has  a  lean  and  hungry  look; 

He  thinks  too  much :  such  men  are  dangerous. " 
If  Bacon  had  completed  his  intended  work  upon  "  Sympathy  and 
Antipathy,"  the  constant  hatred  evinced  by  ignorance  of  intellec- 
tual superiority,  originating  sometimes  in  the  painful  feeling  of 
inferiority,  sometimes  in  the  fear  of  worldly  injury  would  not 
have  escaped  hia  notice. 


350  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

rX.— THE  SISTER  OF  THE  GIANTS,  OR  FAME. 

EXPLAINED    OF   PUBLIC   DETRACTION. 

The  poets  relate,  that  the  giants,  produced  from 
the  earth,  made  war  upon  Jupiter,  and  the  other 
gods,  but  were  repulsed  and  conquered  by  thunder ; 
whereat  the  earth,  provoked,  brought  forth  Fame, 
the  youngest  sister  of  the  giants,  in  revenge  for  the 
death  of  her  sons. 

Explanation.  —  The  meaning  of  the  fable  seems 
to  be  this :  the  earth  denotes  the  nature  of  the 
vulgar,  who  are  always  swelling,  and  rising  against 
tlieir  rulers,  and  endeavoring  at  changes.  This  dis- 
position, getting  a  fit  opportunity,  breeds  rebels  and 
traitors,  who,  with  impetuous  rage,  threaten  and  con- 
trive the  overthrow  and  destruction  of  princes. 

And  when  brought  under  and  subdued,  the  same 
vile  and  restless  nature  of  the  people,  impatient  of 
peace,  produces  rumors,  detractions,  slanders,  libels, 
&c.,  to  blacken  those  in  authority  ;  so  that  rebellious 
actions  and  seditious  rumors,  differ  not  in  origin  and 
stock,  but  only,  as  it  were,  in  sex ;  treasons  and  re- 
bellions being  the  brothers,  and  scandal  or  detraction 
the  sister. 


ACTEON  AND  PENTHEUS.  351 


X.— ACTEON  AND  PENTHEUS,   OR  A 
CURIOUS   MAN. 

EXPLAINED   OF   CURIOSITY,    OR   PRYING   INTO  THE   SECRETS 
OF   PRINCES    AND    DIVINE   MYSTERIES. 

The  ancients  afford  us  two  examples  for  suppress- 
ing the  impertinent  curiosity  of  mankind,  in  diving 
into  secrets,  and  imprudently  longing  and  endeavoring 
to  discover  them.  The  one  of  these  is  in  the  person 
of  Acteon,  and  the  other  in  that  of  Pentheus.  Acteon, 
undesignedly  chancing  to  see  Diana  naked,  was  turned 
into  a  stag,  and  torn  to  pieces  by  his  own  hounds. 
And  Pentheus,  desiring  to  pry  into  the  hidden  mys- 
teries of  Bacchus's  sacrifice,  and  climbing  a  tree  for 
that  purpose,  was  struck  with  a  frenzy.  This  frenzy 
of  Pentheus  caused  him  to  see  things  double,  particu- 
larly the  sun,  and  his  own  city,  Thebes,  so  that 
running  homewards,  and  immediately  espying  another 
Thebes,  he  runs  towards  that ;  and  thus  continues  in- 
cessantly, tending  first  to  the  one,  and  then  to  the 
other,  without  coming  at  either. 

Explanation.  —  The  first  of  these  fables  may  re- 
late to  the  secrets  of  princes,  and  the  second  to  divine 
mysteries.  For  they  who  are  not  intimate  with  a 
prince,  yet,  against  his  will,  have  a  knowledge  of  his 
secrets,  inevitably  incur  his  displeasure ;  and  therefore, 
being  aware  that  they  are  singled  out,  and  all  oppor- 
tunities watched  against  them,  they  lead  the  life  of  a 


352  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

stag,  full  of  fears  and  suspicions.  It  likewise  fre- 
quently happens  that  their  servants  and  domestics 
accuse  them,  and  plot  their  overthrow,  in  order  to 
procure  favor  with  the  prince  ;  for  whenever  the  king 
manifests  his  displeasure,  the  person  it  falls  upon 
must  expect  his  servants  to  betray  him,  and  worry 
him  down,  as  Acteon  was  worried  by  his  own  dogs. 

The  punishment  of  Pentheus  is  of  another  kind ; 
for  they  who,  unmindful  of  their  mortal  state,  rashly 
aspire  to  divine  mysteries,  by  climbing  the  heights  of 
nature  and  philosophy,  here  represented  by  climbing 
a  tree,  —  their  fate  is  perpetual  inconstancy,  perplex- 
ity, and  instability  of  judgment.  For  as  there  is  one 
light  of  nature,  and  another  light  that  is  divine,  they 
see,  as  it  were,  two  suns.  And  as  the  actions  of  life, 
and  the  determinations  of  the  will,  depend  upon  the 
understanding,  they  are  distracted  as  much  in  opinion 
as  in  will;  and  therefore  judge  very  inconsistently,  or 
contradictorily ;  and  see,  as  it  were,  Thebes  double  ; 
for  Thebes  being  the  refuge  and  habitation  of  Pen- 
theus, here  denotes  the  ends  of  actions  ;  whence  they 
know  not  what  course  to  take,  but  remaining  unde- 
termined and  unresolved  in  their  views  and  designs, 
they  are  merely  driven  about  by  every  sudden  gust 
and  impulse  of  the  mind. 


ORPHEUS,  OR  PHILOSOPHY.  353 

XL  — ORPHEUS,  OR  PHILOSOPHY. 

EXPLAINED   OF   NATURAL   AND   MORAL   PHILOSOPHY. 

Introduction.— The  fable  of  Orpheus,  though 
trite  and  common,  has  never  been  well  interpreted, 
and  seems  to  hold  out  a  picture  of  universal  philos- 
ophy ;  for  to  this  sense  may  be  easily  transferred  what 
is  said  of  his  being  a  wonderful  and  perfectly  divine 
person,  skilled  in  all  kinds  of  harmony,  subduing  and 
dra\ving  all  things  after  him  by  sweet  and  gentle 
methods  and  modulations.  For  the  labors  of  Orpheus 
exceed  the  labors  of  Hercules,  both  in  power  and  dig- 
nity, as  the  works  of  knowledge  exceed  the  works  of 
strength. 

Fable.  —  Orpheus  having  his  beloved  wife 
snatched  from  him  by  sudden  death,  resolved  upon 
descending  to  the  infernal  regions,  to  tiy  if,  by  the 
power  of  his  harp,  he  could  reobtain  her.  And,  in 
effect,  he  so  appeased  and  soothed  the  infernal  powers 
by  the  melody  and  sweetness  of  his  harp  and  voice, 
that  they  indulged  him  the  liberty  of  taking  her  back, 
on  condition  that  she  should  follow  him  behind,  and 
he  not  turn  to  look  upon  her  till  they  came  into  open 
day ;  but  he,  through  the  impatience  of  his  care  and 
affection,  and  thinking  himself  almost  past  danger, 
at  length  looked  behind  him,  whereby  the  condition 
was  violated,  and  she  again  precipitated  to  Pluto's 

23 


354  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

regions.  From  this  time  Orpheus  grew  pensive  and 
sad,  a  hater  of  the  sex,  and  went  into  solitude,  where, 
by  the  same  sweetness  of  his  harp  and  voice,  he  first 
drew  the  wild  beasts  of  all  sorts  about  him ;  so  that, 
forgetting  their  natures,  they  were  neither  actuated 
by  revenge,  cruelty,  lust,  hunger,  or  the  desire  of 
prey,  but  stood  gazing  about  him,  in  a  tame  and  gen- 
tle manner,  listening  attentively  to  his  music.  Nay, 
so  great  was  the  power  and  efficacy  of  his  harmony, 
that  it  even  caused  the  trees  and  stones  to  remove, 
and  place  themselves  in  a  regular  manner  about  him. 
When  he  had  for  a  time,  and  with  great  admiration, 
continued  to  do  this,  at  length  the  Thracian  women, 
raised  by  the  instigation  of  Bacchus,  first  blew  a  deep 
and  hoarse-sounding  horn,  in  such  an  outrageous 
manner,  that  it  quite  drowned  the  music  of  Orpheus. 
And  thus  the  power  which,  as  the  link  of  their  society, 
held  all  things  in  order,  being  dissolved,  disturbance 
reigned  anew  ;  each  creature  returned  to  its  own  na- 
ture, and  pursued  and  preyed  upon  its  fellow,  as 
before.  The  rocks  and  woods  also  started  back  to 
their  former  places ;  and  even  Orpheus  himself  was  at 
last  torn  to  pieces  by  these  female  furies,  and  his 
limbs  scattered  all  over  the  desert.  But,  in  sorrow 
and  revenge  for  his  death,  the  River  Helicon,  sacred 
to  the  Muses,  hid  its  waters  under  ground,  and  rose 
again  in  other  places. 

Explanation.  —  The  fable  receives  this  explana- 
tion.    The  music  of  Orpheus  is  of  two  kinds;  one 


ORPHEUS,  OR  PHILOSOPHY.  355 

that  appeases  the  infernal  powers,  and  the  other  that 
draws  together  the  wild  beasts  and  trees.  The  former 
properly  relates  to  natural,  and  the  latter  to  moral 
philosophy,  or  civil  society.  The  reinstatement  and 
restoration  of  corruptible  things  is  the  noblest  work 
of  natural  philosophy  ;  and,  in  a  less  degree,  the 
preservation  of  bodies  in  their  own  state,  or  a  preven- 
tion of  their  dissolution  and  corruption.  And  if  this 
be  possible,  it  can  certainly  be  eflFected  no  other  way 
than  by  proper  and  exquisite  attemperations  of  nature ; 
as  it  were  by  the  harmony  and  fine  touching  of  the 
harp.  But  as  this  is  a  thing  of  exceeding  great  diffi- 
culty, the  end  is  seldom  obtained ;  and  that,  probably, 
for  no  reason  more  than  a  curious  and  unseasonable 
impatience  and  solicitude. 

And,  therefore,  philosophy,  being  almost  unequal 
to  the  task,  has  cause  to  grow  sad,  and  hence  be- 
takes itself  to  human  affairs,  insinuating  into  men's 
minds  the  love  of  virtue,  equity,  and  peace,  by  means 
of  eloquence  and  persuasion  ;  thus  forming  men  into 
societies ;  bringing  them  under  laws  and  regulations ; 
and  making  them  forget  their  unbridled  passions 
and  affections,  so  long  as  they  hearken  to  precepts 
and  submit  to  discipline.  And  thus  they  soon  after 
build  themselves  habitations,  form  cities,  cultivate 
lands,  plant  orchards,  gardens,  &c.  So  that  they 
may  not  improperly  be  said  to  remove  and  call  the 
trees  and  stones  together. 

And  this  regard  to  civil  affairs  is  justly  and  reg- 
ularly placed  after  diligent  trial  made  for  restoring 


356  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

the  mortal  body ;  the  attempt  being  frustrated  in  the 
end  —  because  the  unavoidable  necessity  of  death, 
thus  evidently  laid  before  mankind,  animates  them 
to  seek  a  kind  of  eternity  by  works  of  perpetuity, 
character,  and  fame. 

It  is  also  prudently  added,  that  Orpheus  was  after- 
wards averse  to  women  and  wedlock,  because  the 
indulgence  of  the  married  state,  and  the  natural 
affections  which  men  have  for  their  children,  often 
prevent  them  from  entering  upon  any  grand,  noble, 
or  meritorious  enterprise  for  the  public  good ;  as 
thinking  it  sufficient  to  obtain  immortality  by 
their  descendants,  without  endeavoring  at  great 
actions. 

And  even  the  works  of  knowledge,  though  the 
most  excellent  among  human  things,  have  tlieir  pe- 
riods ;  for  after  kingdoms  and  commonwealths  have 
flourished  for  a  time,  disturbances,  seditions,  and 
wars,  often  arise,  in  the  din  whereof,  first  the  laws 
are  silent,  and  not  heard;  and  then  men  return  to 
their  own  depraved  natures  —  whence  cultivated 
lands  and  cities  soon  become  desolate  and  waste. 
And  if  this  disorder  continues,  learning  and  philos- 
ophy is  infallibly  torn  to  pieces  ;  so  that  only  some 
scattered  fragments  thereof  can  afterwards  be  found 
up  and  down,  in  a  few  places,  like  planks  after  a 
shipwreck.  And  barbarous  times  succeeding,  the 
River  Helicon  dips  under-ground ;  that  is,  letters 
are  buried,  till  things  having  undergone  their  due 


C(ELUM,  OR  BEGINNINGS.  357 

course  of  changes,  learning  rises  again,  and  shows 
its  head,  though  seldom  in  the  same  place,  but  in 
some  other  nation.* 


XII.  — C(ELUM,  OR  BEGINNINGS. 

EXPLAINED  OF  THE  CREATION,   OR  ORIGIN  OF  ALL  THINGS. 

The  poets  relate,  that  Coelum  was  the  most  an- 
cient of  all  the  gods;  that  his  parts  of  generation 
were  cut  oif  by  his  son  Saturn ;  that  Saturn  had  a 
numerous  offspring,  but  devoured  all  his  sons,  as 
soon  as  they  were  born;  that  Jupiter  at  length 
escaped  the  common  fate;  and  when  grown  up, 
drove  his  father  Saturn  into  Tartarus;  usurped  the 
kingdom ;  cut  oif  his  father's  genitals,  with  the  same 
knife  wherewith  Saturn  had  dismembered  Ccelum, 
and  throwing  them  into  the  sea,  thence  sprung 
Venus. 

Before  Jupiter  was  well  established  in  his  empire, 
two  memorable  wars  were  made  upon  him ;  the 
first  by  the  Titans,  in  subduing  of  whom,  Sol,  the 
only  one  of  the  Titans  who  favored  Jupiter,  per- 
formed  him   singular  service;   the  second   by  the 

1  Thus  we  see  that  Orpheus  denotes  learning  ;  Eurydice,  things, 
or  the  subject  of  learning  ;  Bacchus,  and  the  Thracian  women,  men's 
ungoverned  passions  and  appetites,  &c.  And  in  the  same  manner 
all  the  ancient  fables  might  be  familiarly  illustrated,  and  brought 
down  to  the  capacities  of  children. 


358  WISDOM  OF  TPIE  ANCIENTS. 

giants,  who   being  destroyed  and  subdued  by  the 
thunder  and  arms  of  Jupiter,  he  now  reigned  secure. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  appears  to  be  an 
enigmatical  account  of  the  origin  of  all  things,  not 
greatly  differing  from  the  philosophy  afterwards  em- 
braced by  Democritus,  who  expressly  asserts  the 
eternity  of  matter,  but  denies  the  eternity  of  the  world; 
thereby  approaching  to  the  truth  of  sacred  writ, 
which  makes  chaos,  or  uninformed  matter,  to  exist 
before  the  six  days'  works. 

The  meaning  of  the  fable  seems  to  be  this :  Coelum 
denotes  the  concave  space,  or  vaulted  roof  that 
incloses  all  matter,  and  Saturn  the  matter  itself, 
which  cuts  off  all  power  of  generation  from  his 
father;  as  one  and  the  same  quantity  of  matter 
remains  invariable  in  nature,  without  addition  or 
diminution.  But  the  agitations  and  struggling  mo- 
tions of  matter,  first  produced  certain  imperfect  and 
ill-joined  compositions  of  things,  as  it  were  so  many 
first  rudiments,  or  essays  of  worlds ;  till,  in  process 
of  time,  there  arose  a  fabric  capable  of  preserving 
its  form  and  structure.  Whence  the  first  age  was 
shadowed  out  by  the  reign  of  Saturn ;  who,  on 
account  of  the  frequent  dissolutions,  and  short  dura- 
tions of  things,  was  said  to  devour  his  children. 
And  the  second  age  was  denoted  by  the  reign  of 
Jupiter;  who  thrust,  or  drove  those  frequent  and 
transitory  changes  into  Tartarus  —  a  place  expres- 
sive of  disorder.     This  place  seems  to  be  the  middle 


CCELUM,  OR  BEGINNINGS.  359 

space,  between  the  lower  heavens  and  the  internal 
parts  of  the  earth,  wherein  disorder,  imperfection, 
mutation,  mortality,  destruction,  and  corruption,  are 
principally  found. 

Venus  was  not  bom  during  the  former  generation 
of  things,  under  the  reign  of  Saturn ;  for  whilst 
discord  and  jar  had  the  upper  hand  of  concord  and 
uniformity  in  the  matter  of  the  universe,  a  change 
of  the  entire  structure  was  necessary.  And  in  this 
manner  things  were  generated  and  destroyed,  before 
Saturn  was  dismembered.  But  when  this  manner 
of  generation  ceased,  there  immediately  followed 
another,  brought  about  by  Venus,  or  a  perfect  and 
established  harmony  of  things ;  whereby  changes 
were  wrought  in  the  parts,  whilst  the  universal  fabric 
remained  entire  and  undisturbed.  Saturn,  however, 
is  said  to  be  thrust  out  and  dethroned,  not  killed, 
and  become  extinct ;  because,  agreeably  to  the  opinicn 
of  Democritus,  the  world  might  relapse  into  its  old 
confusion  and  disorder,  which  Lucretius  hoped  would 
not  happen  in  his  time.^ 

But  now,  when  the  world  was  compact,  and  held 
together  by  its  own  bulk  and  energy,  yet  there  was 
no  rest  from  the  beginning ;  for  first,  there  followed 
considerable  motions  and  disturbances  in  the  celestial 
regions,  though  so  regulated  and  moderated  by  the 
power  of  the  Sun,  prevailing  over  the  heavenly 
bodies,  as  to  continue  the  world  in  its  state.     After- 

1  "  Quod  procul  a  nobis  flectat  Fortuua  gubemans  ; 
Et  ratio  potius  quam  res  persuadeat  ipsa." 


360  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

wards  there  followed  the  like  in  the  lower  parts,  by 
inundations,  storms,  winds,  general  earthquakes,  &c., 
which,  however,  being  subdued  and  kept  under,  there 
ensued  a  more  peaceable  and  lasting  harmony,  and 
consent  of  things. 

It  may  be  said  of  this  fable,  that  it  includes  phi- 
losophy; and  again,  that  philosophy  includes  the 
fable;  for  we  know,  by  faith,  that  all  these  things 
are  but  the  oracle  of  sense,  long  since  ceased  and 
decayed;  but  the  matter  and  fabric  of  the  world 
being  justly  attributed  to  a  creator. 


XIII.  — PROTEUS,  OR  MATTER. 

EXPLAINED    OF   MATTER   AND    ITS   CHANGES. 

Proteus,  according  to  the  poets,  was  Neptune's 
herdsman ;  an  old  man,  and  a  most  extraordinary 
prophet,  who  understood  things  past  and  present,  as 
well  as  future ;  so  that  besides  the  business  of  divi- 
nation, he  was  the  revealer  and  interpreter  of  all 
antiquity,  and  secrets  of  every  kind.  He  lived  in 
a  vast  cave,  where  his  custom  was  to  tell  over  his 
herd  of  searcalves  at  noon,  and  then  to  sleep.  Who- 
ever consulted  him,  had  no  other  way  of  obtaining 
an  answer,  but  by  binding  him  with  manacles  and 
fetters ;  when  he,  endeavoring  to  free  himself,  would 
change  into  all  kinds  of  shapes  and  miraculous  forms ; 
as  of  fire,  water,  wild  beasts,  &c. ;  till  at  length  he 
resumed  his  own  shape  again. 


PROTEUS,  OR  MATTER.  361 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  point  at 
the  secrets  of  nature,  and  the  states  of  matter.  For 
the  person  of  Proteus  denotes  matter,  the  oldest  of 
all  things,  after  God  himself;^  that  resides,  as  in  a 
cave,  under  the  vast  concavity  of  the  heavens.  He 
is  represented  as  the  servant  of  Neptune,  because 
the  various  operations  and  modifications  of  matter 
are  principally  wrought  in  a  fluid  state.  The  herd, 
or  flock  of  Proteus,  seems  to  be  no  other  than  the 
several  kinds  of  animals,  plants,  and  minerals,  in 
which  matter  appears  to  difiuse  and  spend  itself; 
so  that  after  having  formed  these  several  species, 
and  as  it  were  finished  its  task,  it  seems  to  sleep  and 
repose,  without  otherwise  attempting  to  produce 
any  new  ones.  And  this  is  the  moral  of  Proteus's 
counting  his  herd,  then  going  to  sleep. 

This  is  said  to  be  done  at  noon,  not  in  the  morning 
or  evening ;  by  which  is  meant  the  time  best  fitted 
and  disposed  for  the  production  of  species,  from  a 
matter  duly  prepared,  and  made  ready  beforehand, 
and  now  lying  in  a  middle  state,  between  its  first 
rudiments  and  decline ;  which,  we  learn  from  sacred 
history,  was  the  case  at  the  time  of  the  creation ; 
when,  by  the  efficacy  of  the  divine  command,  matter 
directly  came  together,  without  any  transformation 
or  intermediate  changes,  which  it  afiects;  instantly 
obeyed  the  order,  and  appeared  in  the  form  of 
creatures. 

And  thus  far  the  fable  reaches  of  Proteus,  and 

1  Proteus  properly  signifies  primary,  oldest,  or  first. 


362  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

his  flock,  at  liberty  and  unrestrained.  For  the  uni- 
verse, with  the  common  structures,  and  fabrics  of 
the  creatures,  is  the  face  of  matter,  not  under  con- 
straint,  or  as  the  flock  wrought  upon  and  tortured 
by  human  means.  But  if  any  skilful  minister  of 
nature  shall  apply  force  to  matter,  and  by  design 
torture  and  vex  it,  in  order  to  its  annihilation,  it, 
on  the  contrary,  being  brought  under  this  necessity^ 
changes  and  transforms  itself  into  a  strange  variety 
of  shapes  and  appearances  ;  for  nothing  but  the 
power  of  the  Creator  can  annihilate,  or  truly  destroy 
it;  so  that  at  length,  running  through  the  whole 
circle  of  transformations,  and  completing  its  period, 
it  in  some  degree  restores  itself,  if  the  force  be  con- 
tinued. And  that  method  of  binding,  torturing,  or 
detaining,  will  prove  the  most  efiectual  and  expedi- 
tious, which  makes  use  of  manacles  and  fetters ; 
that  is,  lays  hold  and  works  upon  matter  in  the 
extremest  degrees. 

The  addition  in  the  fable  that  makes  Proteus  a 
prophet,  who  had  the  knowledge  of  things  past, 
present,  and  future,  excellently  agrees  with  the  nature 
of  matter ;  as  he  who  knows  the  properties,  the 
changes,  and  the  processes  of  matter,  must,  of  neces- 
sity, understand  the  efifects  and  sum  of  what  it  does, 
has  done,  or  can  do,  though  his  knowledge  extends 
not  to  all  the  parts  and  particulars  thereof. 


MEMNON,  OR  A  YOUTH  TOO  FORWARD.     363 


XrV.— MEMNON,   OR  A  YOUTH  TOO 
FORWARD. 

EXPLAINED    OF   THE    FATAL    PRECIPITANCY    OF   YOUTH. 

The  poets  made  Memnon  the  son  of  Aurora,  and 
bring  him  to  the  Trojan  war  in  beautiful  armor,  and 
flushed  with  popular  praise  ;  where,  thirsting  after 
further  glory,  and  rashly  hurrying  on  to  the  greatest 
enterprises,  he  engages  the  bravest  warrior  of  all  the 
Greeks,  Achilles,  and  falls  by  his  hand  in  single  com- 
bat. Jupiter,  in  commiseration  of  his  death,  sent  birds 
to  grace  his  funeral,  that  perpetually  chanted  certain 
mournful  and  bewailing  dirges.  It  is  also  reported, 
that  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun,  striking  his  statue, 
used  to  give  a  lamenting  sound. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  regards  the  unfor- 
tunate end  of  those  promising  youths,  who,  like  sons 
of  the  morning,  elate  with  empty  hopes  and  glitter- 
ing outsides,  attempt  things  beyond  their  strength  ; 
challenge  the  bravest  heroes  ;  provoke  them  to  the 
combat;  and,  proving  unequal,  die  in  their  high 
attempts. 

The  death  of  such  youths  seldom  fails  to  meet  with 
infinite  pity ;  as  no  mortal  calamity  is  more  moving 
and  afflicting,  than  to  see  the  flower  of  virtue  cropped 
before  its  time.  Nay,  the  prime  of  life  enjoyed  to  the 
full,  or  even  to  a  degree  of  envy,  does  not  assauge  or 
moderate  the  grief  occasioned  by  the  untimely  death 


364  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

of  such  hopeful  youths  ;  but  lamentations  and  bewail- 
ings  fly,  like  mournful  birds,  about  their  tombs,  for  a 
long  while  after  ;  especially  upon  all  fresh  occasions, 
new  commotions,  and  the  beginning  of  great  actions, 
the  passionate  desire  of  them  is  renewed,  as  by  the 
sun's  morning  rays. 


XV.— TYTHONUS,  OR  SATIETY. 

EXPLAINED    OF   PREDOMINANT   PASSIONS. 

It  is  elegantly  fabled  by  Tythonus,  that  being  ex- 
ceedingly beloved  by  Aurora,  she  petitioned  Jupiter 
that  he  might  prove  immortal,  thereby  to  secure  her- 
self the  everlasting  enjoyment  of  his  company ;  but 
through  female  inadvertence  she  forgot  to  add,  that 
he  might  never  grow  old  ;  so  that,  though  he  proved 
immortal,  he  became  miserably  worn  and  consumed 
with  age,  insomuch  that  Jupiter,  out  of  pity,  at  length 
transformed  him  to  a  grasshopper. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  contain  an 
ingenious  description  of  pleasure ;  which  at  first,  as 
it  were  in  the  morning  of  the  day,  is  so  welcome, 
that  men  pray  to  have  it  everlasting,  but  forget  that 
satiety  and  weariness  of  it  will,  like  old  age,  overtake 
them,  though  they  think  not  of  it ;  so  that  at  length, 
when  their  appetite  for  pleasurable  actions  is  gone, 
their  desires  and  afifections  often  continue;  whence 


JUNO'S  SUITOR,  OR  BASENESS.  365 

we  commonly  find  that  aged  persons  delight  them- 
selves with  the  discourse  and  remembrance  of  the 
things  agreeable  to  them  in  their  better  days.  This  is 
very  remarkable  in  men  of  a  loose,  and  men  of  a  mili- 
tary life  ;  the  former  whereof  are  always  talking  over 
their  amours,  and  the  latter  the  exploits  of  their 
youth  ;  like  grasshoppers,  that  show  their  vigor  only 
by  their  chirping. 


XVI.  — JUNO'S  SUITOR,  OR  BASENESS. 

EXPLAINED   OF   SDBjynSSION   AND   ABJECTION. 

The  poets  tell  us,  that  Jupiter,  to  carry  on  his  love- 
intrigues,  assumed  many  different  shapes;  as  of  a 
bull,  an  eagle,  a  swan,  a  golden  shower,  &c. ;  but 
when  he  attempted  Juno,  he  turned  himself  into  the 
most  ignoble  and  ridiculous  creature,  —  even  that  of 
a  wretched,  wet,  weather-beaten,  aflPrighted,  trembling 
and  half-starved  cuckoo. 

Explanation.  —  This  is  a  wise  fable,  and  drawn 
from  the  very  entrails  of  morality.  The  moral  is,  that 
men  should  not  be  conceited  of  themselves,  and 
imagine  that  a  discovery  of  their  excellences  will 
always  render  them  acceptable ;  for  this  can  only 
succeed  according  to  the  nature  and  manners  of  the 
person  they  court,  or  solicit ;  who,  if  he  be  a  man  not 
of  the  same  gifts  and  endowments,  but  altogether  of 


366  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

a  haughty  and  contemptuous  behavior,  here  repre- 
sented by  the  person  of  Juno,  they  must  entirely  drop 
the  character  that  carries  the  least  show  of  worth  or 
gracefulness ;  if  they  proceed  upon  any  other  footing, 
it  is  downright  folly ;  nor  is  it  sufficient  to  act  the 
deformity  of  obsequiousness,  unless  they  really  change 
themselves,  and  become  abject  and  contemptible  in 
their  persons. 


XVII.  — CUPID,  OR  AN  ATOM. 

EXPLAINED    OF   THE   CORPUSCULAR   PHILOSOPHY. 

The  particulars  related  by  the  poets  of  Cupid,  or 
Love,  do  not  properly  agree  to  the  same  person,  yet 
they  differ  only  so  far,  that  if  the  confusion  of  persons 
be  rejected,  the  correspondence  may  hold.  They  say, 
that  Love  was  the  most  ancient  of  all  the  gods,  and 
existed  before  every  thing  else,  except  Chaos,  which 
is  held  coeval  therewith.  But  for  Chaos,  the  ancients 
never  paid  divine  honors,  nor  gave  the  title  of  a  god 
thereto.  Love  is  represented  absolutely  without  pro- 
genitor, excepting  only  that  he  is  said  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  the  egg  of  Nox  ;  but  that  himself  begot 
the  gods,  and  all  things  else,  on  Chaos.  His  attri- 
butes are  four;  viz:  1,  perpetual  infancy;  2,  blind- 
ness; 3,  nakedness;  and  4,  archery. 

There  was  also  another  Cupid,  or  Love,  the 
youngest  son  of  the  gods,  bom  of  Venus ;  and  upon 


CUPID,  OB  AN  ATOM.  367 

him  the  atti:ibute8  of  the  elder  are  transferred,  with 
some  degree  of  correspondence. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  points  at,  and  enters, 
the  cradle  of  nature.  Love  seems  to  be  the  appe- 
tite, or  incentive,  of  the  primitive  matter;  or,  to 
speak  more  distinctly,  the  natural  motion,  or  moving 
principle,  of  the  original  corpuscles,  or  atoms;  this 
being  the  most  ancient  and  only  power  that  made 
and  wrought  all  things  out  of  matter.  It  is  abso- 
lutely without  parent,  that  is,  without  cause;  for 
causes  are  as  parents  to  effects;  but  this  power  or 
efficacy  could  have  no  natural  cause;  for,  excepting 
God,  nothing  was  before  it;  and  therefore  it  could 
have  no  efficient  in  nature.  And  as  nothing  is  more 
inward  with  nature,  it  can  neither  be  a  genus  nor  a 
form ;  and  therefore,  whatever  it  is,  it  must  be 
somewhat  positive,  though  inexpressible.  And  if  it 
were  possible  to  conceive  its  modus  and  process,  yet 
it  could  not  be  known  from  its  cause,  as  being,  next 
to  God,  the  cause  of  causes,  and  itself  without  a 
cause.  And,  perhaps,  we  are  not  to  hope  that  the 
modus  of  it  should  fall,  or  be  comprehended,  under 
human  inquiry.  Whence  it  is  properly  feigned  to 
be  the  egg  of  Nox,  or  laid  in  the  dark. 

The  divine  philosopher  declares,  that  "  God  has 
made  every  thing  beautiful  in  its  season;  and  has 
given  over  the  world  to  our  disputes  and  inquiries ; 
but  that  man  cannot  find  out  the  work  which  God 
has  wrought,   from  its  beginning  up   to  its  end." 


368  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

Tlius  the  summary  or  collective  law  of  nature,  or 
the  principle  of  love,  impressed  by  God  upon  the 
original  particles  of  all  things,  so  as  to  make  them 
attack  each  other  and  come  together,  by  the  repeti- 
tion and  multiplication  whereof  all  the  variety  in  the 
universe  is  produced,  can  scarce  possibly  find  full 
admittance  into  the  thoughts  of  men,  though  some 
faint  notion  may  be  had  thereof.  The  Greek  philos- 
ophy is  subtile,  and  busied  in  discovering  the  ma- 
terial principles  of  things,  but  negligent  and  languid 
in  discovering  the  principles  of  motion,  in  which 
the  energy  and  efficacy  of  every  operation  consists. 
And  here  the  Greek  philosophers  seem  perfectly 
blind  and  childish ;  for  the  opinion  of  the  Peripa- 
tetics, as  to  the  stimulus  of  matter,  by  privation,  is 
little  more  than  words,  or  rather  sound  than  signifi- 
cation. And  they  who  refer  it  to  God,  though  they 
do  well  therein,  yet  they  do  it  by  a  start,  and  not  by 
proper  degrees  of  assent ;  for  doubtless  there  is  one 
summary,  or  capital  law,  in  which  nature  meets, 
subordinate  to  God,  viz:  the  law  mentioned  in  the 
passage  above  quoted  from  Solomon ;  or  the  work 
which  God  has  wrought  from  its  beginning  to  its  end. 
Democritus,  who  further  considered  this  subject, 
having  first  supposed  an  atom,  or  corpuscle,  of  some 
dimension  or  figure,  attributed  thereto  an  appetite, 
desire,  or  first  motion  simply,  and  another  compar- 
atively, imagining  that  all  things  properly  tended  to 
the  centre  of  the  world ;  those  containing  more  mat- 
ter falling  faster  to  the  centre,  and  thereby  remov- 


CUPID,  OR  AN  ATOM.  369 

ing,  and  in  the  shock  driving  away,  such  as  held 
less.  But  this  is  a  slender  conceit,  and  regards  too 
few  particulars ;  for  neither  the  revolutions  of  the 
celestial  bodies,  nor  the  contractions  and  expansions 
of  things,  can  be  reduced  to  this  principle.  And 
for  the  opinion  of  Epicurus,  as  to  the  declination 
and  fortuitous  agitation  of  atoms,  this  only  brings 
the  matter  back  again  to  a  trifle,  and  w^raps  it  up  in 
ignorance  and  night. 

Cupid  is  elegantly  drawn  a  perpetual  child;  for 
compounds  are  larger  things,  and  have  their  periods 
of  age ;  but  the  first  seeds  or  atoms  of  bodies  are 
small,  and  remain  in  a  perpetual  infant  state. 

He  is  again  justly  represented  naked;  as  all 
compounds  may  properly  be  said  to  be  dressed  and 
clothed,  or  to  assume  a  personage ;  whence  nothing 
remains  truly  naked,  but  the  original  particles  of 
things. 

The  blindness  of  Cupid  contains  a  deep  allegory ; 
for  this  same  Cupid,  Love,  or  appetite  of  the  world, 
seems  to  have  very  little  foresight,  but  directs  his 
steps  and  motions  conformably  to  what  he  finds  next 
him,  as  blind  men  do  when  they  feel  out  their  way ; 
which  renders  the  divine  and  overruling  Providence 
and  foresight  the  more  surprising ;  as  by  a  certain 
steady  law,  it  brings  such  a  beautiful  order  and  reg- 
ularity of  things  out  of  what  seems  extremely  casual, 
void  of  design,  and,  as  it  were,  really  blind. 

The  last  attribute  of  Cupid  is  archery,  viz :  a 
virtue  or  power  operating  at  a  distance;  for  every 

24 


370  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

thing  that  operates  at  a  distance  may  seem,  as  it 
were,  to  dart,  or  shoot  with  arrows.  And  whoever 
allows  of  atoms  and  vacuity,  necessarily  supposes 
that  the  virtue  of  atoms  operates  at  a  distance ;  for 
without  this  operation,  no  motion  could  be  excited, 
on  account  of  the  vacuum  interposing,  but  all  things 
would  remain  sluggish  and  unmoved. 

As  to  the  other  Cupid,  he  is  properly  said  to  be 
the  youngest  son  of  the  gods,  as  his  power  could  not 
take  place  before  the  formation  of  species,  or  par- 
ticular bodies.  The  description  given  us  of  him 
transfers  the  allegory  to  morality,  though  he  still 
retains  some  resemblance  with  the  ancient  Cupid; 
for  as  Venus  universally  excites  the  aflfection  of  as- 
sociation, and  the  desire  of  procreation,  her  son 
Cupid  applies  the  affection  to  individuals;  so  that 
the  general  disposition  proceeds  from  Venus,  but  the 
more  close  sympathy  from  Cupid.  The  former  de- 
pends upon  a  near  approximation  of  causes,  but  the 
latter  upon  deeper,  more  necessitating  and  uncon- 
trollable principles,  as  if  they  proceeded  from  the 
ancient  Cupid,  on  whom  all  exquisite  sympathies 
depend. 


DIOMED,  OR  ZEAL.  871 

XVIII.  — DIOMED,  OR  ZEAL. 

EXPLAINED    OP   PERSECUTION,    OB   ZEAL   FOR   RELIGION. 

DiOMED  acquired  great  glory  and  honor  at  the 
Trojan  war,  and  was  highly  favored  by  Pallas,  who 
encouraged  and  excited  him  by  no  means  to  spare 
Venus,  if  he  should  casually  meet  her  in  fight.  He 
followed  the  advice  with  too  much  eagerness  and 
intrepidity,  and  accordingly  wounded  that  goddess 
in  her  hand.  This  presumptuous  action  remained 
unpunished  for  a  time,  and  when  the  war  was  ended 
lie  returned  with  great  glory  and  renown  to  his  own 
country,  where,  finding  himself  embroiled  with  do- 
mestic afiairs,  he  retired  into  Italy.  Here  also  at 
first  he  was  well  received  and  nobly  entertained  by 
King  Daunus,  who,  besides  other  gifts  and  honors, 
erected  statues  for  him  over  all  his  dominions.  But 
upon  the  first  calamity  that  afflicted  the  people  after 
the  stranger's  arrival,  Daunus  immediately  reflected 
that  he  entertained  a  devoted  person  in  his  palace, 
an  enemy  to  the  gods,  and  one  who  had  sacrile- 
giously wounded  a  goddess  with  his  sword,  whom  it 
was  impious  but  to  touch.  To  expiate,  therefore, 
his  country's  guilt,  he,  without  regard  to  the  laws  of 
hospitality,  which  were  less  regarded  by  him  than 
the  laws  of  religion,  directly  slew  his  guest,  and 
commanded  his  statues  and  all  his  honors  to  be 
razed  and  abolished.    Nor  was  it  safe  for  others  to 


372  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

commiserate  or  bewail  so  cruel  a  destiny ;  but  even 
his  companions  in  arms,  whilst  they  lamented  the 
death  of  their  leader,  and  filled  all  places  with  their 
complaints,  were  turned  into  a  kind  of  swans,  which 
are  said,  at  the  approach  of  their  own  death,  to  chant 
sweet  melancholy  dirges. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  intimates  an  extra- 
ordinary and  almost  singular  thing,  for  no  hero  be- 
sides Diomed  is  recorded  to  have  wounded  any  of 
the  gods.  Doubtless  we  have  here  described  the 
nature  and  fate  of  a  man  who  professedly  makes 
any  divine  worship  or  sect  of  religion,  though,  in  it- 
self vain  and  light,  the  only  scope  of  his  actions,  and 
resolves  to  propagate  it  by  fire  and  sword.  For 
although  the  bloody  dissensions  and  differences  about 
religion  were  unknown  to  the  ancients,  yet  so  copious 
and  diffusive  was  their  knowledge,  that  what  they 
knew  not  by  experience  they  comprehended  in 
thought  and  representation.  Those,  therefore,  who 
endeavor  to  reform  or  establish  any  sect  of  religion, 
though  vain,  corrupt,  and  infamous  (which  is  here 
denoted  under  the  person  of  Venus),  not  by  the  force 
of  reason,  learning,  sanctity  of  manners,  the  weight 
of  arguments,  and  examples,  but  would  spread 
or  extirpate  it  by  persecution,  pains,  penalties,  tor- 
tures, fire,  and  sword,  may,  perhaps,  be  instigated 
hereto  by  Pallas,  that  is,  by  a  certain  rigid,  pruden- 
tial consideration,  and  a  severity  of  judgment,  by  the 
vigor  and  efficacy  whereof  they  see  thoroughly  into 


DIOMED,  OR  ZEAL.  373 

the  fallacies  and  fictions  of  the  delusions  of  this  kind ; 
and  through  aversion  to  depravity  and  a  well-meant 
zeal,  these  men  usually  for  a  time  acquire  great  fame 
and  glory,  and  are  by  the  vulgar,  to  whom  no  mod- 
erate measures  can  be  acceptable,  extolled  and  al- 
most adored,  as  the  only  patrons  and  protectors  of 
truth  and  religion,  men  of  any  other  disposition 
seeming,  in  comparison  with  these,  to  be  lukewarm, 
mean-spirited,  and  cowardly.  This  fame  and  felicity, 
however,  seldom  endures  to  the  end ;  but  all  violence, 
unless  it  escapes  the  reverses  and  changes  of  things 
by  untimely  death,  is  commonly  unprosperous  in  the 
issue ;  and  if  a  change  of  affairs  happens,  and  that 
sect  of  religion  which  was  persecuted  and  oppressed 
gains  strength  and  rises  again,  then  the  zeal  and 
warm  endeavors  of  this  sort  of  men  are  condemned, 
their  very  name  becomes  odious,  and  all  their  honors 
terminate  in  disgrace. 

As  to  the  point  that  Diomed  should  be  slain  by 
his  hospitable  entertainer,  this  denotes  that  religious 
dissensions  may  cause  treachery,  bloody  animosities, 
and  deceit,  even  between  the  nearest  friends. 

That  complaining  or  bewailing  should  not,  in  so 
enormous  a  case,  be  permitted  to  friends  affbcted  by 
the  catastrophe  without  punishment,  includes  this 
prudent  admonition,  that  almost  in  all  kinds  of 
wickedness  and  depravity  men  have  still  room  left 
for  commiseration,  so  that  they  who  hate  the  crime 
may  yet  pity  the  person  and  bewail  his  calamity, 
from  a  principle  of  humanity  and  good-nature ;  and 


374  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

to  forbid  the  overflowings  and  intercourses  of  pity 
upon  such  occasions  were  the  extremest  of  evils; 
yet  in  the  cause  of  religion  and  impiety  the  very 
commiserations  of  men  are  noted  and  suspected. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  lamentations  and  complain- 
ings of  the  followers  and  attendants  of  Diomed,  that 
is,  of  men  of  the  same  sect  or  persuasion,  are  usually 
very  sweet,  agreeable,  and  moving,  like  the  dying 
notes  of  swans,  or  the  birds  of  Diomed.  This  also 
is  a  noble  and  remarkable  part  of  the  allegory,  de- 
noting that  the  last  words  of  those  who  suffer  for 
the  sake  of  religion  strongly  affect  and  sway  men's 
minds,  and  leave  a  lasting  impression  upon  the  sense 
and  memory. 


XIX.— D^DALUS,  OR  MECHANICAL  SKILL. 

EXPLAINED     OF     ARTS     AND     ARTISTS     IN     KINGDOMS     AND 

STATES. 

The  ancients  liave  left  us  a  description  of  mechan- 
ical skill,  industry,  and  curious  arts  converted  to  ill 
uses,  in  the  person  of  Da3dalu8,  a  most  ingenious 
but  execrable  artist.  This  Dsedalus  was  banished 
for  the  murder  of  his  brother  artist  and  rival,  yet 
found  a  kind  reception  in  his  banishment  from  the 
kings  and  states  where  he  came.  He  raised  many 
incomparable  edifices  to  the  honor  of  the  gods,  and 
invented  many  new  contrivances  for  the  beautifying 


DiEDALUS,  OR  MECHANICAL  SKILL.      375 

and  ennobling  of  cities  and  public  places,  but  still  he 
was  most  famous  for  wicked  inventions.  Among 
the  rest,  by  his  abominable  industry  and  destructive 
genius,  he  assisted  in  the  fatal  and  infamous  pro- 
duction of  the  monster  Minotaur,  that  devourer  of 
promising  youths.  And  then,  to  cover  one  mischief 
with  another,  and  provide  for  the  security  of  this 
monster,  he  invented  and  built  a  labyrinth ;  a  work 
infamous  for  its  end  and  design,  but  admirable  and 
prodigious  for  art  and  workmanship.  After  this, 
that  he  might  not  only  be  celebrated  for  wicked 
inventions,  but  be  sought  after,  as  well  for  preven- 
tion, as  for  instruments  of  mischief,  he  formed  that 
ingenious  device  of  his  clue,  which  led  directly 
through  all  the  windings  of  the  labyrinth.  This 
Daedalus  was  persecuted  by  Minos  with  the  utmost 
severity,  diligence,  and  inquiry ;  but  he  always  found 
refuge  and  means  of  escaping.  Lastly,  endeavor- 
ing to  teach  his  son  Icarus  the  art  of  flying,  the 
novice,  trusting  too  much  to  his  wings,  fell  from  his 
towering  flight,  and  was  drowned  in  the  sea. 

Explanation.  —  The  sense  of  the  fable  runs 
thus.  It  first  denotes  envy,  which  is  continually 
upon  the  watch,  and  strangely  prevails  among  ex- 
cellent artificers ;  for  no  kind  of  people  are  observed 
to  be  more  implacably  and  destructively  envious  to 
one  another  than  these. 

In  the  next  place,  it  observes  an  impolitic  and 
improvident    kind    of    punishment    inflicted    upon 


876  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

Daedalus  —  that  of  banishment;  for  good  workmen 
are  gladly  received  evenrwhere,  so  that  banishment 
to  an  excellent  artificer  is  scarce  any  punishment 
at  all ;  whereas  other  conditions  of  life  cannot  easily 
flourish  from  home.  For  the  admiration  of  artists 
is  propagated  and  increased  among  foreigners  and 
strangers ;  it  being  a  principle  in  the  minds  of  men 
to  slight  and  despise  the  mechanical  operators  of 
their  own  nation. 

The  succeeding  part  of  the  fable  is  plain,  con- 
cerning the  use  of  mechanic  arts,  whereto  human 
life  stands  greatly  indebted,  as  receiving  from  this 
treasury  numerous  particulars  for  the  service  of 
religion,  the  ornament  of  civil  society,  and  the  whole 
provision  and  apparatus  of  life ;  but  then  the  same 
magazine  supplies  instruments  of  lust,  cruelty,  and 
death.  For,  not  to  mention  the  arts  of  luxury  and 
debauchery,  we  plainly  see  how  far  the  business  of 
exquisite  poisons,  guns,  engines  of  war,  and  such 
kind  of  destructive  inventions,  exceeds  the  cruelty 
and  barbarity  of  the  Minotaur  himself. 

The  addition  of  the  labyrinth  contains  a  beautiful 
allegory,  representing  the  nature  of  mechanic  arts 
in  general ;  for  all  ingenious  and  accurate  mechan- 
ical inventions  may  be  conceived  as  a  labyrinth, 
which,  by  reason  of  their  subtilty,  intricacy,  crossing, 
and  interfering  with  one  another,  and  the  apparent 
resemblances  they  have  among  themselves,  scarce 
any  power  of  the  judgment  can  unravel  and  distin- 
guish ;  so  that  they  are  only  to  be  understood  and 
traced  by  the  clue  of  experience. 


D^DALUS,   OR  MECHANICAL  SKILL.       377 

It  is  no  less  prudently  added,  that  he  who  invented 
the  windings  of  the  labyrinth,  should  also  show  the 
use  and  management  of  the  clue ;  for  mechanical 
arts  have  an  ambiguous  or  double  use,  and  serve  as 
well  to  produce  as  to  prevent  mischief  and  destruc- 
tion ;  so  that  their  virtue  almost  destroys  or  unv/inds 
itself. 

Unlawful  artsr  and  indeed  frequently  arts  them- 
selves, arc  persecuted  by  Minos,  that  is,  by  laws, 
which  prohibit  and  forbid  their  use  among  the 
people ;  but  notwithstanding  this,  they  are  hid,  con- 
cealed, retained,  and  everywhere  find  reception  and 
skulking-places ;  a  thing  well  observed  by  Tacitus 
of  the  astrologers  and  fortune-tellers  of  his  time. 
"These,"  says  he,  "are  a  kind  of  men  that  will 
always  be  prohibited,  and  yet  will  always  be  retained 
in  our  city." 

But  lastly,  all  unlawful  and  vain  arts,  of  what 
kind  soever,  lose  their  reputation  in  tract  of  time ; 
grow  contemptible  and  perish,  through  their  over- 
confidence,  like  Icarus;  being  commonly  unable  to 
perform  what  they  boasted.  And  to  say  the  truth, 
such  arts  are  better  suppressed  by  their  own  vain 
pretensions,  than  checked  or  restrained  by  the  bridle 
of  laws.^ 

1  Bacon  nowhere  speaks  with  such  freedom  and  perspicuity  as 
under  the  pretext  of  explaining  these  ancient  fables;  for  which 
reason  they  deserve  to  be  the  more  read  by  such  as  desire  to  under- 
stand the  rest  of  his  works. 


378  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 


XX.  — ERICTHONIUS,  OR  IMPOSTURR 

EXPLAINED   OF  THE  IMPROPER  USE  OF  FORCE  IN  NATIHIAX, 
PHILOSOPHY. 

The  poets  feign  that  Vulcan  attempted  the  chas- 
tity of  Minerva,  and  impatient  of  refusal,  had  re- 
course to  force ;  the  consequence  of  which  was  the 
birth  of  Ericthonius,  whose  body  from  the  middle 
upwards  weis  comely  and  well-proportioned,  but  his 
thighs  and  legs  small,  shrunk,  and  deformed,  like  an 
eel.  Conscious  of  this  defect,  he  became  the  in- 
ventor of  chariots,  so  as  to  show  the  graceful,  but 
conceal  the  deformed  part  of  his  body. 

Explanation.  —  This  strange  fable  seems  to 
carry  this  meaning.  Art  is  here  represented  under 
the  person  of  Vulcan,  by  reason  of  the  various  uses 
it  makes  of  fire ;  and  nature,  under  the  person  of 
Minerva,  by  reason  of  the  industry  employed  in  her 
works.  Art,  therefore,  whenever  it  ofi*ei"s  violence 
to  nature,  in  order  to  conquer,  subdue,  and  bend  her 
to  its  purpose,  by  tortures  and  force  of  all  kinds, 
seldom  obtains  the  end  proposed ;  yet  upon  great 
struggle  and  application,  there  proceed  certain  im- 
perfect births,  or  lame  abortive  works,  specious  in 
appearance,  but  weak  and  unstable  in  use;  which 
are,  nevertheless,  with  great  pomp  and  deceitful 
appearances,  triumphantly  carried  about,  and  shown 
by  impostors.     A  procedure  very  familiar,  and  re- 


DEUCALION,  OR  RESTITUTION.  379 

niarkable  in  chemical  productions,  and  new  mechan- 
ical inventions ;  especially  when  the  inventors  rather 
hug  their  errors  than  improve  upon  them,  and  go  on 
straggling  with  nature,  not  courting  her. 


XXI.  — DEUCALION,  OR  RESTITUTIOlSr. 

EXPLAINED   OP   A   USEFUL  HINT  IN   NATURAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

The  poets  tell  us,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  old 
world  being  totally  destroyed  by  the  universal  deluge, 
excepting  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha,  these  two,  desiring 
with  zealous  and  fervent  devotion  to  restore  mankind, 
received  this  oracle  for  answer,  that  "they  should 
succeed  by  throwing  their  mother's  bones  behind 
them."  This  at  first  cast  them  into  great  sorrow  and 
despair,  because,  as  all  things  were  levelled  by  the 
deluge,  it  was  in  vain  to  seek  their  mother's  tomb  ; 
but  at  length  they  understood  the  expression  of  the 
oracle  to  signify  the  stones  of  the  earth,  which  is 
esteemed  the  mother  of  all  things. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  reveal  a 
secret  of  nature,  and  correct  an  error  familiar  to  the 
mind ;  for  men's  ignorance  leads  them  to  expect  the 
renovation  or  restoration  of  things  from  their  cor- 
ruption and  remains,  as  the  phcenix  is  said  to  be 
restored  out  of  its  ashes ;  which  is  a  very  improper 
procedure,   because  such    kind    of   materials    have 


380  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

finished  their  course,  and  are  become  absolutely  unfit 
to  supply  the  first  rudiments  of  the  same  things  again ; 
whence,  in  cases  of  renovation,  recourse  should  be 
had  to  more  common  principles. 


XXII.— NEMESIS,  OR  THE  VICISSITUDE 
OF  THINGS. 

EXPLAINED  OF  THE  REVERSES  OF  FORTUNE. 

Nemesis  is  represented  as  a  goddess  venerated  by 
all,  but  feared  by  the  powerful  and  the  fortunate. 
She  is  said  to  be  the  daughter  of  Nox  and  Oceanus. 

She  is  drawn  with  wings,  and  a  crown ;  a  javelin 
of  ash  in  her  right  hand ;  a  glass  containing  Ethio- 
pians in  her  left ;  and  riding  upon  a  stag. 

Explanation.  —  The  fable  receives  this  explana^ 
tion.  The  word  Nemesis  manifestly  signifies  revenge, 
or  retribution ;  for  the  office  of  this  goddess  consisted 
in  interposing,  like  the  Roman  tribunes,  with  an  "  I 
forbid  it,"  in  all  courses  of  constant  and  perpetual 
felicity,  so  as  not  only  to  chastise  haughtiness,  but 
also  to  repay  even  innocent  and  moderate  happiness 
with  adversity ;  as  if  it  were  decreed,  that  none  of 
human  race  should  be  admitted  to  the  banquet  of  the 
gods,  but  for  sport.  And,  indeed,  to  read  over  that 
chapter  of  Pliny  wherein  he  has  collected  the  mis- 
eries and  misfortunes  of  Augustus  Caesar,  whom,  of 
all  mankind,  one  would  judge  most  fortunate,  —  as 


NEMESIS.  381 

he  had  a  certaiD  p,rfc  of  using  and  enjoying  prosperity, 
with  a  mind  no  way  tumid,  light,  effeminate,  confused, 
or  melancholic,  —  one  cannot  but  think  this  a  very 
great  and  powerful  goddess,  who  could  bring  such  a 
victim  to  her  altar.^ 

The  parents  of  this  goddess  were  Oceanus  and 
Nox ;  that  is,  the  fluctuating  change  of  things,  and 
the  obscure  and  secret  divine  decrees.  The  changes 
of  things  are  aptly  represented  by  the  Ocean,  on 
account  of  its  perpetual  ebbing  and  flowing;  and 
secret  providence  is  justly  expressed  by  Night. 
Eveu  the  heathens  have  observed  this  secret  Nemesis 
of  the  night,  or  the  difference  betwixt  divine  and 
human  judgment.^ 

Wings  are  given  to  Nemesis,  because  of  the  sudden 
and  unforeseen  changes  of  things ;  for,  from  the  ear- 
liest account  of  time,  it  has  been  common  for  great 
and  prudent  men  to  fall  by  the  dangers  they  most 
despised.  Thus  Cicero,  when  admonished  by  Brutus 
of  the  infidelity  and  rancor  of  Octavius,  coolly  wrote 
back  :  "  I  cannot,  however,  but  be  obliged  to  you, 
Brutus,  as  I  ought,  for  informing  me,  though  of  such 
a  trifle."  ^ 

Nemesis  also  has  her  crown,  by  reason  of  the 
invidious  and  malignant  nature  of  the  vulgar,  who 

*  As  she  also  brought  the  author  himself. 
2  '* cadit  Ripheus,  justissimus  unus, 

Qui  fuit  ex  Teucris,  et  servantissimus  sequi  : 

Diis  aliter  visum."  —  ^neid,  lib.  ii. 
'  Te  autem  mi  Brute  sicut  debeo,  amo,  quod  istud  quicquid  est 
nugarum  me  scire  voluisti. 


382  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

generally  rejoice,  triumph,  and  crown  her,  at  the  fall 
of  the  fortunate  and  the  powerful.  And  for  the 
javelin  in  her  right  hand,  it  has  regard  to  those  whom 
she  has  actually  struck  and  transfixed.  But  whoever 
escapes  her  stroke,  or  feels  not  actual  calamity  or  mis- 
fortune, she  affrights  with  a  black  and  dismal  sight  in 
her  left  hand  ;  for  doubtless,  mortals  on  the  highest 
pinnacle  of  felicity  have  a  prospect  of  death,  diseases, 
calamities,  perfidious  friends,  undermining  enemies, 
reverses  of  fortune,  &c.,  represented  by  the  Ethiopians 
in  her  glass.  Thus  Virgil,  with  great  elegance, 
describing  the  battle  of  Actium,  says  of  Cleopatra, 
that  "she  did  not  yet  perceive  the  two  asps  behind 
her ; "  ^  but  soon  after,  which  way  soever  she  turned, 
she  saw  whole  troops  of  Ethiopians  stUl  before  her. 

Lastly,  it  is  significantly  added,  that  Nemesis  rides 
upon  a  stag,  which  is  a  very  long-lived  creature ;  for 
though  perhaps  some,  by  an  untimely  death  in  youth, 
may  prevent  or  escape  this  goddess,  yet  they  who 
enjoy  a  long  flow  of  happiness  and  power,  doubtless 
become  subject  to  her  at  length,  and  are  brought  to 
yield. 

^  *'  Regina  in  mediis  patrio  vocat  agmina  sistro  ; 
Necdum  etiam  geminoa  a  tergo  respicit  angiies." 

uEneid,  viii.  696. 


ACHELOUS,  OK  BATTLE.  383 

XXIIL  — ACHELOUS,  OR  BATTLE. 

EXPLAINED    OF   WAR   BY   INVASION. 

The  ancients  relate,  that  Hercules  and  Achelous 
being  rivals  in  the  courtship  of  Deianira,  the  matter 
was  contested  by  single  combat ;  when  Achelous  hav- 
ing transformed  himself,  as  he  had  power  to  do,  into 
various  shapes,  by  way  of  trial ;  at  length,  in  the 
form  of  a  fierce  wild  bull,  prepares  himself  for  the 
fight ;  but  Hercules  still  retains  his  human  shape, 
engages  sharply  with  him,  and  in  the  issue  broke  oflF 
one  of  the  bull's  horns  ;  and  now  Achelous,  in  great 
pain  and  fright,  to  redeem  his  horn,  presents  Hercules 
with  the  cornucopia. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  relates  to  military 
expeditions  and  preparations  ;  for  the  preparation  of 
war  on  the  defensive  side,  here  denoted  by  Achelous, 
appears  in  various  shapes,  whilst  the  invading  side 
has  but  one  simple  form,  consisting  either  in  an  army, 
or  perhaps  a  fleet.  But  the  country  that  expects  the 
invasion  is  employed  infinite  ways,  in  fortifying  towns, 
blockading  passes,  rivers,  and  ports,  raising  soldiers, 
disposing  garrisons,  building  and  breaking  down 
bridges,  procuring  aids,  securing  provisions,  arms, 
ammunition,  &c.  So  that  there  appears  a  new  face 
of  things  every  day ;  and  at  length,  when  the  coun- 
try is  sufficiently  fortified  and  prepared,  it  represents 
to  the  life  the  form  and  threats  of  a  fierce  fighting 
bull. 


384  AVISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

On  the  other  side,  the  invader  presses  on  to  the 
fight,  fearing  to  be  distressed  in  an  enemy's  country. 
And  if  after  the  battle  he  remains  master  of  the  field, 
and  has  now  broke,  as  it  were,  the  horn  of  his  enemy, 
the  besieged,  of  course,  retire  inglorious,  affrighted, 
and  dismayed,  to  their  stronghold,  there  endeavoring 
to  secure  themselves,  and  repair  their  strength ;  leav- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  their  country  a  prey  to  the 
conqueror,  which  is  well  expressed  by  the  Amalthean 
horn,  or  cornucopia. 


XXIV.— DIONYSUS,  OR  BACCHUS. ' 

EXPLAINED    OF   THE   PASSIONS. 

The  fable  runs,  that  Semele,  Jupiter's  mistress, 
having  bound  him  by  an  inviolable  oath  to  grant  her 
an  unknown  request,  desired  he  would  embrace  her 
in  the  same  form  and  manner  he  used  to  embrace 
Juno ;  and  the  promise  being  irrevocable,  she  was 
burnt  to  death  with  lightning  in  the  performance. 
The  embryo,  however,  was  sewed  up,  and  carried  in 
Jupiter's  thigh  till  the  complete  time  of  its  birth  ; 
but  the  burden  thus  rendering  the  father  lame,  and 
causing  him  pain,  the  child  was  thence  called  Dio- 
nysus. When  bom,  he  was  committed,  for  some 
years,  to  be  nursed  by  Proserpina ;  and  when  grown 
up,  appeared  with  so  effeminate  a  face,  that  his  sex 

^  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  b.  iii.,  iv.,  and  vi.  ;  and  Fasti,  iii.  767. 


DIONYSUS,  OR  BACCHUS.  385 

seemed  somewliat  doubtful.  He  also  died,  and  was 
buried  for  a  time,  but  afterwards  revived.  When  a 
youth,  he  first  introduced  the  cultivation  and  dressing 
of  vines,  the  method  of  preparing  wine,  and  taught 
the  use  thereof;  whence  becoming  famous,  he  subdued 
the  world,  even  to  the  utmost  bounds  of  the  Indies. 
He  rode  in  a  chariot  drawn  by  tigers.  There  danced 
about  him  certain  deformed  demons  called  Cobali, 
&c.  The  Muses  also  joined  in  his  train.  He  married 
Ariadne,  who  was  deserted  by  Theseus.  The  ivy 
was  sacred  to  him.  He  was  also  held  the  inventor 
and  institutor  of  religious  rites  and  ceremonies,  but 
such  as  were  wild,  frantic,  and  full  of  corruption  and 
cruelty.  He  had  also  the  power  of  striking  men  with 
frenzies.  Pentheus  and  Orpheus  were  torn  to  pieces 
by  the  frantic  women  at  his  orgies;  the  first  for 
climbing  a  tree  to  behold  their  outrageous  ceremonies, 
and  the  other  for  the  music  of  his  harp.  But  the 
acts  of  this  god  are  much  entangled  and  confounded 
with  those  of  Jupiter. 

ExPLAXATiON.  —  This  fable  seems  to  contain  a 
little  system  of  morality,  so  that  there  is  scarce  any 
better  invention  in  all  ethics.  Under  the  history  of 
Bacchus,  is  drawn  the  nature  of  unlawful  desire  or 
affection,  and  disorder ;  for  the  appetite  and  thirst  of 
apparent  good  is  the  mother  of  all  unlawful  desire, 
though  ever  so  destructive,  and  all  unlawful  desires 
are  conceived  in  unlawful  wishes  or  requests,  rashly 
indulged  cr  granted  before  they  are  well  understood 
25 


386  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

or  considered,  and  when  the  affection  begins  to  grow 
warm,  the  mother  of  it  (the  nature  of  good)  is  de- 
stroyed and  burnt  up  by  the  heat.  And  whilst  an 
unlawful  desire  lies  in  the  embryo,  or  unripened  in 
the  mind,  which  is  its  father,  and  here  represented 
by  Jupiter,  it  is  cherished  and  concealed,  especially  in 
the  inferior  part  of  the  mind,  corresponding  to  the 
thigh  of  the  body,  where  pain  twitches  and  depresses 
the  mind  so  far  as  to  render  its  resolutions  and 
actions  imperfect  and  lame.  And  even  after  this 
child  of  the  mind  is  confirmed,  and  gains  strength  by 
consent  and  habit,  and  comes  forth  into  action,  it 
must  still  be  nursed  by  Proserpina  for  a  time  ;  that 
is,  it  skulks  and  hides  its  head  in  a  clandestine  man- 
ner, as  it  were  under  ground,  till  at  length,  when  the 
checks  of  shame  and  fear  are  removed,  and  the  requi- 
site boldness  acquired,  it  either  assumes  the  pretext 
of  some  virtue,  or  openly  despises  infamy.  And  it  is 
justly  observed,  that  every  vehement  passion  appears 
of  a  doubtful  sex,  as  having  the  strength  of  a  man  at 
first,  but  at  last  the  impotence  of  a  woman.  It  is 
also  excellently  added,  that  Bacchus  died  and  rose 
again ;  for  the  affections  sometimes  seem  to  die  and 
be  no  more;  but  there  is  no  trusting  them,  even 
though  they  were  buried,  being  always  apt  and  ready 
to  rise  again  whenever  the  occasion  or  object  offers. 

That  Bacchus  should  be  the  inventor  of  wine, 
carries  a  fine  allegory  with  it ;  for  every  affection  is 
cunning  and  subtle  in  discovering  a  proper  matter  to 
nourish  and  feed  it;  and  of  all   things  known  to 


DIONYSUS,   OR  BACCHUS.  387 

mortals,  wine  is  the  most  powerful  and  effectual  for 
exciting  and  inflaming  passions  of  all  kinds,  being, 
indeed,  like  a  common  fuel  to  all. 

It  is  again,  with  great  elegance,  observed  of  Bac- 
chus, that  he  subdued  provinces,  and  undertook 
endless  expeditions,  for  the  affections  never  rest  satis- 
fied with  what  they  enjoy,  but  with  an  endless  and 
insatiable  appetite  thirst  after  something  further. 
And  tigers  are  prettily  feigned  to  draw  the  chariot ; 
for  as  soon  as  any  affection  shall,  from  going  on  foot, 
be  advanced  to  ride,  it  triumphs  over  reason,  and 
exerts  its  cruelty,  fierceness,  and  strength  against  all 
that  oppose  it. 

It  is  also  humorously  imagined,  that  ridiculous 
demons  dance  and  frisk  about  this  chariot ;  for  every 
passion  produces  indecent,  disorderly,  interchangeable 
and  deformed  motions  in  the  eyes,  countenance,  and 
gesture,  so  that  the  person  under  the  impulse, 
whether  of  anger,  insult,  love,  &c.,  though  to  himself 
he  may  seem  grand,  lofty,  or  obliging,  yet  in  the  eyes 
of  others  appears  mean,  contemptible,  or  ridiculous. 

The  Muses  also  are  found  in  the  train  of  Bacchus, 
for  there  is  scarce  any  passion  without  its  art,  science, 
or  doctrine  to  court  and  flatter  it ;  but  in  this  respect 
the  indulgence  of  men  of  genius  has  greatly  detracted 
from  the  majesty  of  the  Muses,  who  ought  to  be  the 
leaders  and  conductors  of  human  life,  and  not  the 
handmaids  of  the  passions. 

The  allegory  of  Bacchus  falling  in  love  with  a 
cast  mistress,  is  extremely  noble;  for  it  is  certain 


388  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

that  the  affections  always  court  and  covet  what  has 
been  rejected  upon  experience.  And  all  those  who 
by  serving  and  indulging  their  passions  immensely 
raise  the  value  of  enjoyment,  should  know,  that 
whatever  they  covet  and  pursue,  whether  riches, 
pleasure,  glory,  learning,  or  anything  else,  they  only 
pursue  those  things  that  have  been  forsaken  and 
cast  off  with  contempt  by  great  numbers  in  all  ages, 
after  possession  and  experience. 

Nor  is  it  without  a  mystery  that  the  ivy  was  sa^ 
cred  to  Bacchus,  and  this  for  two  reasons :  first, 
because  ivy  is  an  evergreen,  or  flourishes  in  the 
winter;  and  secondly,  because  it  winds  and  creeps 
about  so  many  things,  as  trees,  walls,  and  buildings, 
and  raises  itself  above  them.  As  to  the  first,  every 
passion  grows  fresh,  strong,  and  vigorous  by  oppo- 
sition and  prohibition,  as  it  were  by  a  kind  of  con- 
trast or  antiperistasis,  like  the  ivy  in  the  winter. 
And  for  the  second,  the  predominant  passion  of  the 
mind  throws  itself,  like  the  ivy,  round  all  human 
actions,  entwines  all  our  resolutions,  and  perpetually 
adheres  to,  and  mixes  itself  among,  or  even  over- 
tops them. 

And  no  wonder  that  superstitious  rites  and  cere- 
monies are  attributed  to  Bacchus,  when  almost  every 
ungovernable  passion  growc  wanton  and  luxuriant 
in  corrupt  religions ;  nor  again,  that  fury  and  frenzy 
should  be  sent  and  dealt  out  by  him,  because  every 
passion  is  a  short  frenzy,  and  if  it  be  vehement, 
lasting,  and  take  deep  root,  it  terminates  in  mad- 


ATALANTA  AND  HIPPOMENES,  OR  GAIN.     389 

ness.  And  hence  the  allegory  of  Pentheus  and 
Orpheus  being  torn  to  pieces  is  evident ;  for  every 
headstrong  passion  is  extremely  bitter,  severe,  in- 
veterate, and  revengeful  upon  all  curious  inquiry, 
wholesome  admonition,  free  counsel,  and  persuasion. 
Lastly ;  the  confusion  between  the  persons  of  Ju- 
piter and  Bacchus  will  justly  admit  of  an  allegory, 
because  noble  and  meritorious  actions  may  some- 
times proceed  from  virtue,  sound  reason,  and  mag- 
nanimity, and  sometimes  again  from  a  concealed 
passion  and  secret  desire  of  ill,  however  they  may 
be  extolled  and  praised,  insomuch  that  it  is  not  easy 
to  distinguish  betwixt  the  acts  of  Bacchus  and  the 
acts  of  Jupiter. 


XXV.— ATALANTA  AND  HIPPOMENES, 
OR  GAIN. 

EXPLAINED    OF   THE    CONTEST    BETWIXT   ART   AND  NATURE. 

Atalanta,  who  was  exceedingly  fleet,  contended 
with  Hippomenes  in  the  course,  on  condition  that, 
if  Hippomenes  won,  he  should  espouse  her,  or  for- 
feit his  life  if  he  lost.  The  match  was  very  un- 
equal, for  Atalanta  had  conquered  numbers,  to  their 
destruction.  Hippomenes,  therefore,  had  recourse 
to  stratagem.  He  procured  three  golden  apples, 
and  purposely  carried  them  with  him  ;  they  started ; 
Atalanta  outstripped  him  soon ;  then  Hippomenes 
bowled  one  of  his  apples   before  her,   across  the 


390  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

couree,  in  order  not  only  to  make  her  stoop,  but  to 
draw  her  out  of  the  path.  She,  prompted  by  female 
curiosity,  and  the  beauty  of  the  golden  fruit,  starts 
from  the  course  to  take  up  the  apple.  Hippomenes, 
in  the  mean  time,  holds  on  his  way,  and  steps  before 
her ;  but  she,  by  her  natural  swiftness,  soon  fetches 
up  her  lost  ground,  and  leaves  him  again  behind. 
Hippomenes,  however,  by  rightly  timing  his  second 
and  third  throw,  at  length  won  the  race,  not  by  his 
swiftness,  but  his  cunning. 

Explanation. — This  fable  seems  to  contain  a 
noble  allegory  of  the  contest  betwixt  art  and  nature. 
For  art,  here  denoted  by  Atalanta,  is  much  swifter, 
or  more  expeditious  in  its  operations  than  nature, 
when  all  obstacles  and  impediments  are  removed, 
and  sooner  arrives  at  its  end.  This  appears  almost 
in  every  instance.  Thus,  fruit  comes  slowly  from 
the  kernel,  but  soon  by  inoculation  or  incision ;  clay, 
left  to  itself,  is  a  long  time  in  acquiring  a  stony 
hardness,  but  is  presently  burnt  by  fire  into  brick. 
So  again,  in  human  life,  nature  is  a  long  while  in 
alleviating  and  abolishing  the  remembrance  of  pain, 
and  assuaging  the  troubles  of  the  mind ;  but  moral 
philosophy,  which  is  the  art  of  living,  performs  it 
presently.  Yet  this  prerogative  and  singular  effi- 
cacy of  art  is  stopped  and  retarded  to  the  infinite 
detriment  of  human  life,  by  certain  golden  apples; 
for  there  is  no  one  science  or  art  that  constantly 
holds  on  its  true  and  proper  course  to  the  end,  but 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     391 

they  are  all  continually  stopping  short,  forsaking 
the  track,  and  turning  aside  to  profit  and  conven- 
ience, exactly  like  Atalanta.^  Whence  it  is  no  won- 
der that  art  gets  not  the  victory  over  nature,  nor, 
according  to  the  condition  of  the  contest,  brings  her 
under  subjection ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  remains 
subject  to  her,  as  a  wife  to  a  husband.^ 


XXVL  — PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE 
OF  MAN. 

EXPLAINED  OF  AN  OVERRnLING  PROVIDENCE,  AND  OP 
HUMAN  NATURE. 

The  ancients  relate  that  man  was  the  work  of 
Prometheus,  and  formed  of  clay;  only  the  artificer 
mixed  in  witli  the  mass,  particles  taken  from  differ- 
ent animals.  And  being  desirous  to  improve  his 
workmanship,  and  endow,  as  well  as  create,  the 
human  race,  he  stole  up  to  heaven  with  a  bundle 
of  birch-rods,  and  kindling  them  at  the  chariot  of 

1  "Declinat  cursus,  aurumque  volubile  toUit." 

2  The  author,  in  all  his  physical  works,  proceeds  upon  this 
foundation,  that  it  is  possible,  and  practicable,  for  art  to  obtain 
the  victory  over  nature  ;  that  is,  for  human  industry  and  power  to 
procure,  by  the  means  of  proper  knowledge,  such  things  as  are 
necessary  to  render  life  as  happy  and  commodious  as  its  mortal 
state  will  allow.  For  instance,  that  it  is  possible  to  lengthen  the 
present  period  of  human  life  ;  bring  the  winds  under  command  : 
and  every  way  extend  and  enlarge  the  dominion  or  empire  of  man 
over  the  works  of  nature. 


392  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

the  Sun,  thence  brought  down  fire  to  the  earth  for 
the  service  of  men. 

They  add  that,  for  this  meritorious  act,  Prome- 
theus was  repayed  with  ingratitude  by  mankind,  so 
that,  forming  a  conspiracy,  they  arraigned  both  him 
and  his  invention  before  Jupiter.  But  the  matter 
was  otherwise  received  tlian  they  imagined ;  for 
the  accusation  proved  extremely  grateful  to  Jupiter 
and  the  gods,  insomuch  that,  delighted  with  the 
action,  they  not  only  indulged  mankind  the  use 
of  fire,  but  moreover  conferred  upon  them  a  most 
acceptable  and  desirable  present,  viz:  perpetual 
youth. 

But  men,  foolishly  overjoyed  hereat,  laid  this 
present  of  the  gods  upon  an  ass,  who,  in  returning 
back  with  it,  being  extremely  thirsty,  strayed  to  a 
fountain.  The  serpent,  who  was  guardian  thereof, 
would  not  suffbr  him  to  drink,  but  upon  condition 
of  receiving  the  burden  he  carried,  whatever  it 
should  be.  The  silly  ass  complied,  and  thus  the 
perpetual  renewal  of  youth  was,  for  a  drop  of  water, 
transferred  from  men  to  the  race  of  serpents. 

Prometheus,  not  desisting  from  his  unwarrant- 
able practices,  though  now  reconciled  to  mankind, 
after  they  were  thus  tricked  of  their  present,  but 
still  continuing  inveterate  against  Jupiter,  had  the 
boldness  to  attempt  deceit,  even  in  a  sacrifice,  and 
is  said  to  have  once  offered  up  two  bulls  to  Jupiter, 
but  so  as  in  the  hide  of  one  of  them  to  wrap  all  the 
flesh  and  fat  of  both,  and  stuflfing  out  the  other  hide 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     393 

only  with  the  bones ;  then,  in  a  religious  and  devout 
manner,  gave  Jupiter  his  choice  of  the  two.  Jupiter, 
detesting  this  sly  fraud  and  hypocrisy,  but  having 
thus  an  opportunity  of  punishing  the  offender,  pur- 
posely chose  the  mock  bull. 

And  now  giving  way  to  revenge,  but  finding  he 
could  not  chastise  the  insolence  of  Prometheus 
without  afflicting  the  human  race  (in  the  produc- 
tion whereof  Prometheus  had  strangely  and  in- 
sufferably prided  himself),  he  commanded  Vulcan 
to  form  a  beautiful  and  graceful  woman,  to  whom 
every  god  presented  a  certain  gift,  whence  she  was 
called  Pandora.^  They  put  into  her  hands  an  ele- 
gant box,  containing  all  sorts  of  miseries  and  mis- 
fortunes; but  Hope  was  placed  at  the  bottom  of 
it.  With  this  box  she  first  goes  to  Prometheus,  to 
try  if  she  could  prevail  upon  him  to  receive  and 
open  it ;  but  he  being  upon  his  guard,  warily  re- 
fused the  offer.  Upon  this  refusal,  she  comes  to 
his  brother  Epimetheus,  a  man  of  a  very  different 
temper,  who  rashly  and  inconsiderately  opens  the 
box.  When  finding  all  kinds  of  miseries  and  mis- 
fortunes issued  out  of  it,  he  grew  wise  too  late,  and 
with  great  hurry  and  struggle  endeavored  to  clap 
the  cover  on  again ;  but  with  all  his  endeavor  could 
scarce  keep  in  Hope,  which  lay  at  the  bottom. 

Lastly,  Jupiter  arraigned  Prometheus  of  many 
heinous  crimes;  as  that  he  formerly  stole  fire  from 
heaven;    that    he    contemptuously    and    deceitfully 

1  "All-gift." 


394  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

mocked  him  by  a  sacrifice  of  bones ;  that  he  de- 
spised his  present/  adding  withal  a  new  crime,  that 
he  attempted  to  ravish  Pallas;  for  all  which,  he 
was  sentenced  to  be  bound  in  chains,  and  doomed 
to  perpetual  torments.  Accordingly,  by  Jupiter's 
command,  he  was  brought  to  Mount  Caucasus,  and 
there  fastened  to  a  pillar,  so  firmly  that  he  could  no 
way  stir.  A  vulture  or  eagle  stood  by  him,  which 
in  the  daytime  gnawed  and  consumed  his  liver ;  but 
in  the  night  the  wasted  parts  were  supplied  again; 
whence  matter  for  his  pain  was  never  wanting. 

They  relate,  however,  that  his  punishment  had 
an  end;  for  Hercules  sailing  the  ocean,  in  a  cup, 
or  pitcher,  presented  him  by  the  Sun,  came  at  length 
to  Caucasus,  shot  the  eagle  with  his  arrows,  and  set 
Prometheus  free.  In  certain  nations,  also,  there 
were  instituted  particular  games  of  the  torch,  to  the 
honor  of  Prometheus,  in  which  they  who  ran  for 
the  prize  carried  lighted  torches ;  and  as  any  one 
of  these  torches  happened  to  go  out,  the  bearer 
withdrew  himself,  and  gave  way  to  the  next ;  and 
that  person  was  allowed  to  win  the  prize,  who  firet 
brought  in  his  lighted  torch  to  the  goal. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  contains  and  enforces 
many  just  and  serious  considerations ;  some  whereof 
have  been  long  since  well  observed,  but  some  again 
remain  perfectly  untouched.  Prometheus  clearly  and 
expressly  signifies  Providence ;  for  of  all  the  things 

^  Viz  :  that  by  Pandora. 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     395 

in  nature,  the  fonnation  and  endowment  of  man  was 
singled  out  by  the  ancients,  and  esteemed  the  pe- 
culiar work  of  Providence.  The  reason  hereof 
seems,  l.^That  the  nature  of  man  includes  a  mind 
and  understanding,  which  is  the  seat  of  Providence. 
2.  That  it  is  harsh  and  incredible  to  suppose  reason 
and  mind  should  be  raised,  and  drawn  out  of  sense- 
less and  irrational  principles ;  whence  it  becomes 
almost  inevitable,  that  providence  is  implanted  in 
the  human  mind  in  conformity  with,  and  by  the 
direction  and  the  design  of  the  greater  overruling 
Providence.  But,  3.  The  principal  cause  is  this : 
that  man  seems  to  be  the  thing  in  which  the  whole 
world  centres,  with  respect  to  final  causes ;  so  that 
if  he  were  away,  all  other  things  would  stray  and 
fluctuate,  without  end  or  intention,  or  become  per- 
fectly disjointed,  and  out  of  frame;  for  all  things 
are  made  subservient  to  man,  and  he  receives  use 
and  benefit  from  them  all.  Thus  the  revolutions, 
places,  and  periods,  of  the  celestial  bodies,  serve 
him  for  distinguishing  times  and  seasons,  and  for 
dividing  the  world  into  different  regions;  the  me- 
teors afford  him  prognostications  of  the  weather ; 
the  winds  sail  our  ships,  drive  our  mills,  and  move 
our  machines ;  and  the  vegetables  and  animals  of 
all  kinds  either  afford  us  matter  for  houses  and 
habitations,  clothing,  food,  physic ;  or  tend  to 
ease,  or  delight,  to  support,  or  refi"e8h  us  so  that 
everything  in  nature  seems  not  made  for  itself,  but 
for  man. 


396  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

And  it  is  not  without  reason  added,  that  the  mass 
of  matter  whereof  man  was  formed,  should  be  mixed 
up  with  particles  taken  from  different  animals,  and 
wrought  in  with  the  clay,  because  it  is  certain,  that  of 
all  things  in  the  universe,  man  is  the  most  com- 
pounded and  recompounded  body ;  so  that  the 
ancients,  not  improperly,  styled  him  a  Microcosm,  or 
little  world  within  himself.  For  although  the  chem- 
ists have  absurdly,  and  too  literally,  wrested  and 
perverted  the  elegance  of  the  term  microcosm,  whilst 
they  pretend  to  find  all  kind  of  mineral  and  vegetable 
matters,  or  something  corresponding  to  them,  in  man, 
yet  it  remains  firm  and  unshaken,  that  the  human 
body  is,  of  all  substances,  the  most  mixed  and  or- 
ganical ;  whence  it  has  surprising  powers  and  faculties; 
for  the  powers  of  simple  bodies  are  but  few,  though 
certain  and  quick ;  as  being  little  broken,  or  weak- 
ened, and  not  counterbalanced  by  mixture ;  but  ex- 
cellence and  quantity  of  energy  reside  in  mixture  and 
composition. 

Man,  however,  in  his  first  origin,  seems  to  be  a 
defenceless,  naked  creature,  slow  in  assisting  him- 
self, and  standing  in  need  of  numerous  things. 
Prometheus,  therefore,  hastened  to  the  invention  of 
fire,  which  supplies  and  administers  to  nearly  all 
human  uses  and  necessities,  insomuch  that,  if  the  soul 
may  be  called  the  form  of  forms,  if  the  hand  may  be 
called  the  instrument  of  instruments,  fire  may,  as 
properly,  be  called  the  assistant  of  assistants,  or  the 
helper  of  helps ;  for  hence  proceed  numberless  opera- 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     397 

tions,  hence  all  the  mechanic  arts,  and  hence  infinite 
assistances  are  afforded  to  the  sciences  themselves. 

The  manner  wherein  Prometheus  stole  this  fire  is 
properly  described  from  the  nature  of  the  thing ;  he 
being  said  to  have  done  it  by  applying  a  rod  of  birch 
to  the  chariot  of  the  Sun ;  for  birch  is  used  in  strik- 
ing and  beating,  which  clearly  denotes  the  generation 
of  fire  to  be  from  the  violent  percussions  and  col- 
lisions of  bodies ;  whereby  the  matters  struck  are 
subtilized,  rarefied,  put  into  motion,  and  so  prepared 
to  receive  the  heat  of  the  celestial  bodies ;  whence 
they,  in  a  clandestine  and  secret  manner,  collect  and 
snatch  fire,  as  it  were  by  stealth,  from  the  chariot  of 
the  Sun. 

The  next  is  a  remarkable  part  of  the  fable,  which 
represents  that  men,  instead  of  gratitude  and  thanks, 
fell  into  indignation  and  expostulation,  accusing  both 
Prometheus  and  his  fire  to  Jupiter,  —  and  yet  the 
accusation  proved  highly  pleasing  to  Jupiter ;  so  that 
he,  for  this  reason,  crowned  these  benefits  of  man- 
kind with  a  new  bounty.  Here  it  may  seem  strange 
that  the  sin  of  ingratitude  to  a  creator  and  benefactor, 
a  sin  so  heinous  as  to  include  almost  all  others,  should 
meet  with  approbation  and  reward.  But  the  allegory 
has  another  view,  and  denotes,  that  the  accusation 
and  arraignment,  both  of  human  nature  and  human 
art  among  mankind,  proceeds  from  a  most  noble  and 
laudable  temper  of  the  mind,  and  tends  to  a  very 
good  purpose  ;  whereas  the  contrary  temper  is  odious 
to  the  gods,  and  unbeneficial  in  itself.     For  they  who 


398  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

break  into  extravagant  praises  of  human  nature,  and 
the  arts  in  vogue,  and  who  lay  themselves  out  in 
admiring  the  things  they  already  possess,  and  will 
needs  have  the  sciences  cultivated  among  them,  to  be 
thought  absolutely  perfect  and  complete,  in  the  first 
place,  show  little  regard  to  the  divine  nature,  whilst 
they  extol  their  own  inventions  almost  as  high  as  his 
perfection.  In  the  next  place,  men  of  this  temper 
are  unserviceable  and  prejudicial  in  life,  whilst  they 
imagine  themselves  already  got  to  the  top  of  things, 
and  there  rest,  without  further  inquiry.  On  the  con- 
trary, they  who  arraign  and  accuse  both  nature  and 
art,  and  are  always  full  of  compaints  against  them, 
not  only  presei've  a  more  just  and  modest  sense  of 
mind,  but  are  also  perpetually  stirred  up  to  fresh 
industry  and  new  discoveries.  Is  not,  then,  the 
ignorance  and  fatality  of  mankind  to  be  extremely 
pitied,  whilst  they  remain  slaves  to  the  arrogance  of 
a  few  of  their  own  fellows,  and  are  dotingly  fond  of 
that  scrap  of  Grecian  knowledge,  the  Peripatetic 
philosophy ;  and  this  to  such  a  degree,  as  not  only  to 
think  all  accusation  or  arraignment  thereof  useless,  but 
even  hold  it  suspect  and  dangerous  ?  Certainly  the 
procedure  of  Empedocles,  though  furious  —  but  es- 
pecially that  of  Democritus  (who  with  great  modesty 
complained  that  all  things  were  abstruse ;  that  we 
know  nothing ;  that  truth  lies  hid  in  deep  pits ;  that 
falsehood  is  strangely  joined  and  twisted  along  with 
truth,  &c.)  —  is  to  be  preferred  beiore  the  confident, 
assuming,  and  dogmatical  school  of  Aristotle.     Man- 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     399 

kind  are,  therefore,  to  be  admonished,  that  the  arraign- 
ment of  nature  and  of  art  is  pleasing  to  the  gods ; 
and  that  a  sliarp  and  vehement  accusation  of  Pro- 
metheus, though  a  creator,  a  founder,  and  a  master, 
obtained  new  blessings  and  presents  from  the  divine 
bounty,  and  proved  more  sound  and  serviceable  than 
a  diffusive  harangue  of  praise  and  gratulation.  And 
let  men  be  assured  that  the  fond  opinion  that  they 
have  already  acquired  enough,  is  a  principal  reason 
why  they  have  acquired  so  little. 

That  the  perpetual  flower  of  youth  should  be  the 
present  which  mankind  received  as  a  reward  for  their 
accusation,  carries  this  moral ;  that  the  ancients  seem 
not  to  have  despaired  of  discovering  methods,  and 
remedies,  for  retarding  old  age,  and  prolonging  the 
period  of  human  life  ;  but  rather  reckoned  it  among 
those  things  which,  through  sloth  and  want  of  diligent 
inquiry,  perish  and  come  to  nothing,  after  having 
been  once  undertaken,  than  among  such  as  are  ab- 
solutely impossible,  or  placed  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  human  power.  For  they  signify  and  intimate 
from  the  true  use  of  fire,  and  the  just  and  strenuous 
accusation  and  conviction  of  the  errors  of  art,  that 
the  divine  bounty  is  not  wanting  to  men  in  such  kind 
of  presents,  but  that  men  indeed  are  wanting  to 
themselves,  and  lay  such  an  inestimable  gift  upon  the 
back  of  a  slow-paced  ass ;  that  is,  upon  the  back  of 
the  heavy,  dull,  lingering  thing,  experience ;  from 
whose  sluggish  and  tortoise-pace  proceeds  that  ancient 
complaint   of  the  shortness  of  life,  and  the   slow 


400  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

advancement  of  arts.  And  certainly  it  may  well  seem, 
that  the  two  faculties  of  reasoning  and  experience 
are  not  hitherto  properly  joined  and  coupled  together, 
but  to  be  still  new  giftg  of  the  gods,  separately  laid, 
the  one  upon  the  back  of  a  light  bird,  or  abstract 
philosophy,  and  the  other  upon  an  ass,  or  slow-paced 
practice  and  trial.  And  yet  good  hopes  might  be 
conceived  of  this  ass,  if  it  were  not  for  his  thirst  and 
the  accidents  of  the  way.  For  we  judge,  that  if  any 
one  would  constantly  proceed,  by  a  certain  law  and 
method,  in  the  road  of  experience,  and  not  by  the 
way  thirst  after  such  experiments  as  make  for  profit 
or  ostentation,  nor  exchange  his  burden,  or  quit  the 
original  design  for  the  sake  of  these,  he  might  be  an 
useful  bearer  of  a  new  and  accumulated  divine  bounty 
to  mankind. 

That  this  gift  of  perpetual  youth  should  pass  from 
men  to  serpents,  seems  added  by  way  of  ornament,  and 
illustration  to  the  fable;  perhaps  intimating,  at  the 
same  time,  the  shame  it  is  for  men,  that  they,  with 
their  fire,  and  numerous  arts,  cannot  procure  to  them- 
selves those  things  which  nature  has  bestowed  upon 
many  other  creatures. 

The  sudden  reconciliation  of  Prometheus  to  man- 
kind, after  being  disappointed  of  their  hopes,  contains 
a  prudent  and  useful  admonition.  It  points  out  the 
levity  and  temerity  of  men  in  new  experiments,  when, 
not  presently  succeeding,  or  answering  to  expectation, 
they  precipitantly  quit  their  new  undertakings,  hurry 
back  to  their  old  ones,  and  grow  reconciled  thereto. 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     401 

After  the  fable  has  described  the  state  of  man, 
with  regard  to  arts  aud  intellectual  matters,  it  passes 
on  to  religion ;  for  after  the  inventing  and  settling 
of  arts,  follows  the  establishment  of  divine  worship, 
which  hypocrisy  presently  enters  into  and  corrupts. 
So  that  by  the  two  sacrifices  we  have  elegantly 
painted  the  person  of  a  man  truly  religious,  and  of  an 
hypocrite.  One  of  these  sacrifices  contained  the  fat, 
or  the  portion  of  God,  used  for  burning  and  incensing ; 
thereby  denoting  affection  and  zeal,  offered  up  to  his 
glory.  It  likewise  contained  the  bowels,  which  are 
expressive  of  charity,  along  with  the  good  and  useful 
flesh.  But  the  other  contained  nothing  more  than 
dry  bones,  which  nevertheless  stuffed  out  the  hide,  so 
as  to  make  it  resemble  a  fair,  beautiful,  and  magnifi- 
cent sacrifice;  hereby  finely  denoting  the  external 
and  empty  rites  and  barren  ceremonies,  wherewith 
men  burden  and  stuff  out  the  divine  worship, — :  things 
rather  intended  for  show  and  ostentation  than  con- 
ducing to  piety.  Nor  are  mankind  simply  content 
with  this  mock-worship  of  God,  but  also  impose  and 
further  it  upon  him,  as  if  he  had  chosen  and  ordained 
it.  Certainly  the  prophet,  in  the  person  of  God,  has 
a  fine  expostulation,  as  to  this  matter  of  choice :  "  Is 
this  the  fasting  which  I  have  chosen,  that  a  man 
should  afflict  his  soul  for  a  day,  and  bow  down  his 
head  like  a  bulrush  ?  " 

After  thus  touching  the  state  of  religion,  the  fable 
next  turns  to  manners,  and  the  conditions  of  human 
life.     And  though  it  be  a  very  common,  yet  is  it  a 

26 


402  WISDOM  OP  THE  ANCIENTS. 

just  interpretation,  that  Pandora  denotes  the  pleas- 
ures and  licentiousness  which  the  cultivation  and 
luxury  of  the  arts  of  civil  life  introduce,  as  it  were, 
by  the  instrumental  efficacy  of  fire ;  whence  the  works 
of  the  voluptuary  arts  are  properly  attributed  to  Vul- 
can, the  God  of  Fire.  And  hence  infinite  miseries 
and  calamities  have  proceeded  to  the  minds,  the 
bodies,  and  the  fortunes  of  men,  together  with  a  late 
repentance ;  and  this  not  in  each  man's  particular,  but 
also  in  kingdoms  and  states ;  for  wars,  and  tumults, 
and  tyrannies,  have  all  arisen  from  this  same  fountain, 
or  box  of  Pandora. 

It  is  worth  observing,  how  beautifully  and  elegantly 
the  fable  has  drawn  two  reigning  characters  in  hu- 
man life,  and  given  two  examples,  or  tablatures  of 
them,  under  the  persons  of  Prometheus  and  Epime- 
theus.  The  followers  of  Epimetheus  are  improvident, 
see  not  far  before  them,  and  prefer  such  things  as 
are  agreeable  for  the  present;  whence  they  are  op- 
pressed with  numerous  straits,  difficulties,  and  calam- 
ities, with  which  they  almost  continually  struggle ; 
but  in  the  mean  time  gratify  their  own  temper,  and, 
for  want  of  a  better  knowledge  of  things,  feed  their 
minds  with  many  vain  hopes ;  and  as  with  so  many 
pleasing  dreams,  delight  themselves,  and  sweeten 
the  miseries  of  life. 

But  the  followers  of  Prometheus  are  the  prudent, 
wai7  men,  that  look  into  futurity,  and  cautiously 
guard  against,  prevent,  and  undermine  many  calami- 
ties and  misfortunes.     But  this  watchful,  provident 


PROMETHEUS,  ORTHE  STATE  OF  MAN.   403 

temper,  is  attended  with  a  deprivation  of  numerous 
pleasures,  and  the  loss  of  various  delights,  whilst 
such  men  debar  themselves  the  use  even  of  innocent 
things,  and  what  is  still  worse,  rack  and  torture 
themselves  with  cares,  fears,  and  disquiets;  being 
bouiid  fast  to  the  pillar  of  necessity,  and  tormented 
with  numberless  thoughts  (which  for  their  swiftness 
are  well  compared  to  an  eagle),  that  continually 
wound,  tear,  and  gnaw  their  liver  or  mind,  unless, 
perhaps,  they  find  some  small  remission  by  intervals, 
or  as  it  were  at  nights ;  but  then  new  anxieties, 
dreads,  and  fears,  soon  return  again,  as  it  were  in 
the  morning.  And,  therefore,  very  few  men,  of 
either  temper,  have  secured  to  themselves  the  ad- 
vantages of  providence,  and  kept  clear  of  disquiets, 
troubles,  and  misfortunes. 

Nor  indeed  can  any  man  obtain  this  end  without 
the  assistance  of  Hercules ;  that  is,  of  such  fortitude 
and  constancy  of  mind  as  stands  prepared  against 
every  event,  and  remains  indifferent  to  every  change; 
looking  forward  without  being  daunted,  enjoying  the 
good  without  disdain,  and  enduring  the  bad  without 
impatience.  And  it  must  be  observed,  that  even 
Prometheus  had  not  the  power  to  free  himself,  but 
owed  his  deliverance  to  another ;  for  no  natural  in- 
bred force  and  fortitude  could  prove  equal  to  such  a 
task.  The  power  of  releasing  him  came  from  the 
utmost  confines  of  the  ocean,  and  from  the  sun ; 
that  is,  from  Apollo,  or  knowledge ;  and  again,  from 
a  due  consideration  of  the  uncertainty,  instability, 


404  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

and  fluctuating  state  of  human  life,  which  is  aptly 
represented  by  sailing  the  ocean.  Accordingly, 
Virgil  has  prudently  joined  these  two  together,  ac- 
counting him  happy  who  knows  the  causes  of  things, 
and  has  conquered  all  his  fears,  apprehensions,  and 
superstitions.^ 

It  is  added,  with  great  elegance,  for  supporting 
and  confirming  the  human  mind,  that  the  great  hero 
who  thus  delivered  him  sailed  the  ocean  in  a  cup, 
or  pitcher,  to  prevent  fear,  or  complaint ;.  as  if, 
through  the  narrowness  of  our  nature,  or  a  too  great 
fragility  thereof,  we  were  absolutely  incapable  of 
that  fortitude  and  constancy  to  which  Seneca  finely 
alludes,  when  he  says :  "  It  is  a  noble  thing,  at  once 
to  participate  in  the  frailty  of  man  and  the  security 
of  a  god." 

We  have  hitherto,  that  we  might  not  break  the 
connection  of  things,  designedly  omitted  the  last 
crime  of  Prometheus  —  that  of  attempting  the  chas- 
tity of  Minerva  —  which  heinous  offence  it  doubtless 
was,  that  caused  the  punishment  of  having  his  liver 
gnawed  by  the  vulture.  The  meaning  seems  to  be 
this,  —  that  when  men  are  puffed  up  with  arts 
and  knowledge,  they  often  try  to  subdue  even  the 
divine  wisdom  and  bring  it  under  the  dominion  of 
sense  and  reason,  whence  inevitably  follows  a  per- 

1  "  Felix  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causas, 
Quique  metus  omnes  et  inexorabile  fatum 
Subjecit  pedibus,  strepitumque  Acherontis  avari." 

Oe(rrg.  ii.  490. 


PROMETHEUS,  OR  THE  STATE  OF  MAN.     405 

petual  and  restless  rending  and  tearing  of  the  mind. 
A  sober  and  humble  distinction  must,  therefore,  be 
made  betwixt  divine  and  human  things,  and  betwixt 
the  oracles  of  sense  and  faith,  unless  mankind  had 
rather  choose  an  heretical  religion,  and  a  fictitious 
and  romantic  philosophy.^ 

The  last  particular  in  the  fable  is  the  Games  of 
the  Torch,  instituted  to  Prometheus,  which  again 
relates  to  arts  and  sciences,  as  well  as  the  inven- 
tion of  fire,  for  the  commemoration  and  celebration 
whereof  these  games  were  held.  And  here  we  have 
an  extremely  prudent  admonition,  directing  us  to  ex- 
pect the  perfectien  of  the  sciences  from  succession, 
and  not  from  the  swiftness  and  abilities  of  any  single 
person;  for  he  who  is  fleetest  and  strongest  in  the 
course  may  perhaps  be  less  fit  to  keep  his  torch 
alight,  since  there  is  danger  of  its  going  out  from  too 
rapid  as  well  as  from  too  slow  a  motion.^  But  this 
kind  of  contest,  with  the  torch,  seems  to  have  been 
Icng  dropped  and  neglected ;  the  sciences  appearing 
to  have  flourished  principally  in  their  first  authors, 
as  Aristotle,   Galen,   Euclid,   Ptolemy,  &c. ;  whilst 

^  De  Augtnentis  Sdentiarum,  sec.  xxviii.  and  supplem.  xv. 

*  An  allusion  which,  in  Plato's  writings,  is  applied  to  the  rapid 
succession  of  generations,  through  which  the  continuity  of  human 
life  is  maintained  from  age  to  age  ;  and  which  are  perpetually 
transferring  from  hand  to  hand  the  concerns  and  duties  of  this 
fleeting  scene.  Tewwj'rey  re  Kal  iKTpi<f>ovrei  iratSoj,  KdOawep  Xafirdda 
Tov  ^iov  irapadidovres  aXXoij  i^  aWuv  —  Plato,  Leg.  b.  vi.  Lucre- 
tius also  has  the  same  metaphor :  — 

"  Et  quasi  cursores  vital  lampada  tradunt." 


406  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

their  successors  have  done  very  little,  or  scarce  made 
any  attempts.  But  it  were  highly  to  be  wished 
that  these  games  might  be  renewed,  to  the  honor 
of  Prometheus,  or  human  nature,  and  that  they 
might  excite  contest,  emulation,  and  laudable  en- 
deavors, and  the  design  meet  with  such  success  as 
not  to  hang  tottering,  tremulous,  and  hazarded,  upon 
the  torch  of  any  single  person.  Mankind,  therefore, 
should  be  admonished  to  rouse  themselves,  and  try 
and  exert  their  own  strength  and  chance,  and  not 
place  all  their  dependence  upon  a  few  men,  whose 
abilities  and  capacities,  perhaps,  are  not  greater  than 
their  own. 

These  are  the  particulars  which  appear  to  us 
shadowed  out  by  this  trite  and  vulgar  fable,  though 
without  denying  that  there  may  be  contained  in  it 
several  intimations  that  have  a  surprising  corre- 
spondence with  the  Christian  mysteries.  In  partic- 
ular, the  voyage  of  Hercules,  made  in  a  pitcher,  to 
release  Prometheus,  bears  an  allusion  to  the  word 
of  God,  coming  in  the  frail  vessel  of  the  flesh  to 
redeem  mankind.  But  we  indulge  ourselves  no  such 
liberties  as  these,  for  fear  of  using  strange  fire  at 
the  altar  of  the  Lord. 


ICARUS,  OR  THE  MIDDLE  WAY.         407 


XXVII.— ICARUS  AND  SCYLLA  AND  CHA- 
RITBDIS,  OR  THE  MIDDLE  WAY. 

EXPLAINED     OF     MEDIOCRITY     IN     NATURAL     AND     MORAL 
PHILOSOPHY. 

Mediocrity,  or  the  holding  a  middle  course,  has 
-been  highly  extolled  in  morality,  but  little  in  matters 
of  science,  though  no  less  useful  and  proper  here ; 
whilst  in  politics  it  is  held  suspected,  and  ought  to 
be  employed  with  judgment.  The  ancients  described 
mediocrity  in  manners  by  the  course  prescribed  to 
Icarus ;  and  in  matters  of  the  understanding  by  the 
steering  betwixt  Scylla  and  Charybdis,  on  account 
of  the  great  difficulty  and  danger  in  passing  those 
straits. 

Icarus,  being  to  fly  across  the  sea,  was  ordered 
by  his  father  neither  to  soar  too  high  nor  fly  too  low, 
for,  as  his  wings  were  fastened  together  with  wax, 
r  there  was  danger  of  its  melting  by  the  sun's  heat  in 
too  high  a  flight,  and  of  its  becoming  less  tenacious 
by  the  moisture  if  he  kept  too  near  the  vapor  of 
the  sea.  But  he,  with  a  juvenile  confidence,  soared 
aloft,  and  fell  down  headlong. 

Explanation.  —  The  fable  is  vulgar,  and  easily 
interpreted ;  for  the  path  of  virtue  lies  straight  be- 
tween excess  on  the  one  side,  and  defect  on  the 
other.     And  no  wonder  that  excess  should  prove 


408  WISDOM  OP  THE  ANCIENTS. 

the  bane  of  Icarus,  exulting  in  juvenile  strength  and 
vigor;  for  excess  is  the  natural  vice  of  youth,  as 
defect  is  that  of  old  age ;  and  if  a  man  must  perish 
by  either,  Icarus  chose  the  better  of  the  two;  for 
all  defects  are  justly  esteemed  more  depraved  than 
excesses.  There  is  some  magnanimity  in  excess, 
that,  like  a  bird,  claims  kindred  with  the  heavens ; 
but  defect  is  a  reptile,  that  basely  crawls  upon  the 
earth.  It  was  excellently  said  by  Heraclitus  :  "  A 
dry  light  makes  the  best  soul ; "  for  if  the  soul  con- 
tracts moisture  from  the  earth,  it  perfectly  degener- 
ates and  sinks.  On  the  other  hand,  moderation 
must  be  observed,  to  prevent  this  fine  light  from 
burning,  by  its  too  great  subtility  and  dryness.  But 
these  observations  are  common. 

In  matters  of  the  understanding,  it  requires  great 
skill  and  a  particular  felicity  to  steer  clear  of  Scylla 
and  Charybdis.  If  the  ship  strikes  upon  Scylla,  it 
is  dashed  in  pieces  against  the  rocks;  if  upon 
Charybdis,  it  is  swallowed  outright.  This  allegory 
is  pregnant  with  matter ;  but  we  shall  only  observe 
the  force  of  it  lies  here,  that  a  mean  be  observed  in 
every  doctrine  and  science,  and  in  the  rules  and 
axioms  thereof,  between  the  rocks  of  distinctions 
and  the  whirlpools  of  universalities:  for  these  two 
are  the  bane  and  shipwreck  of  fine  geniuses  and  arts. 


SPHINX,  OR  SCIENCE.  409 


XXVIII.  — SPHINX,  OR  SCIENCE. 

EXPLAINED   OF   THE   SCIENCES. 

They  relate  that  Sphinx  was  a  monster,  vari- 
ously formed,  having  the  face  and  voice  of  a  virgin, 
the  wings  of  a  bird,  and  the  talons  of  a  griffin.  She 
resided  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  near  the  city 
Thebes,  and  also  beset  the  highways.  Her  manner 
was  to  lie  in  ambush  and  seize  the  travellers,  and 
having  them  in  her  power,  to  propose  to  them  cer- 
tain dark  and  perplexed  riddles,  which  it  was  thought 
she  received  from  the  Muses,  and  if  her  wretched 
captives  could  not  solve  and  interpret  these  riddles, 
she,  with  great  cruelty,  fell  upon  them,  in  their  hesi- 
tation and  confusion,  and  tore  them  to  pieces.  This 
plague  having  reigned  a  long  time,  the  Thebans  at 
length  offered  their  kingdom  to  the  man  who  could 
inteq^ret  her  riddles,  there  being  no  other  way  to 
subdue  her.  (Edipus,  a  penetrating  and  prudent 
man,  though  lame  in  his  feet,  excited  by  so  great  a 
reward,  accepted  the  condition,  and  with  a  good  as- 
surance of  mind,  cheerfully  presented  himself  before 
the  monster,  who  directly  asked  him :  "  What  crea- 
ture that  was,  which,  being  born  four-footed,  after- 
wards became  two-footed,  then  three-footed,  and  lastly 
four-footed  again  ?  "  (Edipus,  with  presence  of  mind, 
replied  it  was  man,  who,  upon  his  first  birth  and  in- 
fant state,  crawled  upon  all  fours  in  endeavoring  to 


410  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

walk ;  but  not  long  after  went  upright  upon  his  two 
natural  feet ;  again,  in  old  age  walked  three-footed, 
with  a  stick ;  and  at  last,  growing  decrepit,  lay  four- 
footed  confined  to  his  bed ;  and  having  by  this  exact 
solution  obtained  the  victory,  he  slew  the  monster, 
and,  laying  the  carcass  upon  an  ass,  led  her  away  in 
triumph ;  and  upon  this  he  was,  according  to  the 
agreement,  made  king  of  Thebes. 

Explanation.  —  This  is  an  elegant,  instructive 
fable,  and  seems  invented  to  represent  science,  espe- 
cially as  joined  with  practice.  For  science  may,  with- 
out absurdity,  be  called  a  monster,  being  strangely 
gazed  at  and  admired  by  the  ignorant  and  unskilful. 
Her  figure  and  form  is  various,  by  reason  of  the  vast 
variety  of  subjects  that  science  considers ;  her  voice 
and  countenance  are  represented  female,  by  reason  of 
her  gay  appearance  and  volubility  of  speech  ;  wings 
are  added,  because  the  sciences  and  their  inventions 
run  and  fly  about  in  a  moment,  for  knowledge  like  light 
communicated  from  one  torch  to  another,  is  presently 
caught  and  copiously  diffused;  sharp  and  hooked  talons 
are  elegantly  attributed  to  her,  because  the  axioms 
and  arguments  of  science  enter  the  mind,  lay  hold  of  it, 
fix  it  down,  and  keep  it  from  moving  or  slipping  away. 
This  the  sacred  philosopher  observed,  when  he  said : 
"  The  words  of  the  wise  are  like  goads  or  nails  driven 
far  in."  ^  Again,  all  science  seems  placed  on  high,  as 
it  were  on  the  tops  of  mountains  that  are  hard  to 
1  Eccles.  xii.  11. 


SPHINX,  OR  SCIENCE.  411 

climb ;  for  science  is  justly  imagined  a  sublime  and 
lofty  thing,  looking  down  upon  ignorance  from  an 
eminence,  and  at  the  same  time  taking  an  extensive 
view  on  all  sides,  as  is  usual  on  the  tops  of  mountains. 
Science  is  said  to  beset  the  highways,  because  through 
all  the  journey  and  peregrination  of  human  life  there 
is  matter  and  occasion  offered  of  contemplation. 

Sphinx  is  said  to  propose  various  difficult  questions 
and  riddles  to  men,  which  she  received  from  the 
Muses ;  and  these  questions,  so  long  as  they  remain 
with  the  Muses,  may  very  well  be  unaccompanied 
witli  severity,  for  while  there  is  no  other  end  of  con- 
templation and  inquiry  but  that  of  knowledge  alone, 
the  understanding  is  not  oppressed,  or  driven  to  straits 
and  difficulties,  but  expatiates  and  ranges  at  large, 
and  even  receives  a  degree  of  pleasure  from  doubt  and 
variety;  but  after  the  Muses  have  given  over  their 
riddleb  to  Sphinx,  that  is,  to  practice,  which  urges 
and  impels  to  action,  choice,  and  determination,  then 
it  is  that  they  become  torturing,  severe,  and  trying, 
and,  unless  solved  and  interpreted,  strangely  perplex 
and  harass  the  human  mind,  rend  it  every  way,  and 
perfectly  tear  it  to  pieces.  All  the  riddles  of  Sphinx, 
therefore,  have  two  conditions  annexed,  viz :  dilacera- 
tion  to  those  who  do  not  solve  them,  and  empire  to 
those  that  do.  For  he  who  understands  the  thing 
proposed,  obtains  his  end,  and  every  artificer  rules 
over  his  work.  ^ 

1  This  is  what  the  author  so  frequently  inculcates  in  the  Novum 
Organum,  viz  :  that  knowledge  and  power  are  reciprocal ;  so  that 


412  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

Sphinx  has  no  more  than  two  kinds  of  riddles,  one 
relating  to  the  nature  of  things,  the  other  to  the  na- 
ture of  man ;  and  correspondent  to  these,  the  prizes 
of  the  solution  are  two  kinds  of  empire,  —  the  empire 
over  nature,  and  the  empire  over  man.  For  the  true  and 
ultimate  end  of  natural  philosophy  is  dominion  over 
natural  things,  natural  bodies,  remedies,  machines, 
and  numberless  other  particulars,  though  the  schools, 
contented  with  what  spontaneously  offers,  and  swollen 
with  their  own  discourses,  neglect,  and  in  a  manner 
despise,  both  things  and  works. 

But  the  riddle  proposed  to  (Edipus,  the  solution 
whereof  acquired  him  the  Theban  kingdom,  regarded 
the  nature  of  man  ;  for  he  who  has  thoroughly  looked 
into  and  examined  human  nature,  may  in  a  manner 
command  his  own  fortune,  and  seems  born  to  acquire 
dominion  and  rule.  Accordingly,  Virgil  properly 
makes  the  arts  of  government  to  be  the  arts  of  the 
Romans.  ^  It  was,  therefore,  extremely  apposite  in 
Augustus  Csesar  to  use  the  image  of  Sphinx  in  his 
signet,  whether  this  happened  by  accident  or  by 
design ;  for  he  of  all  men  was  deeply  versed  in  pol- 
itics, and  through  the  course  of  his  life  very  happily 
solved  abundance  of  new  riddles  with  regard  to  the 
nature  of  man ;  and  unless  he  had  done  this  with 
great  dexterity  and  ready  address,  he  would  frequently 

to  improve  in  knowledge  is  to  improve  in  the  power  of  commanding 
nature,  by  introducing  new  arts,  and  producing  works  and  effects. 
1  "  Tu  regere  imperio  populos,  Romane,  memento  : 
Hse  tibi  enint  artes." 

^neid,  vi.  851. 


PROSERPINE,  OR  SPIRIT.  413 

have  been  involved  in  imminent  danger,  if  not 
destruction. 

It  is  with  the  utmost  elegance  added  in  the  fable, 
that  when  Sphinx  was  conquered,  her  carcass  was 
laid  upon  an  ass  ;  for  there  is  nothing  so  subtile  and 
abstruse,  but  after  being  once  made  plain,  intelligible, 
and  common,  it  may  be  received  by  the  slowest 
capacity. 

We  must  not  omit  that  Sphinx  was  conquered  by 
a  lame  man,  and  impotent  in  his  feet;  for  men 
usually  make  too  much  haste  to  the  solution  of 
Sphinx's  riddles ;  whence  it  happens,  that  she  pre- 
vailing, their  minds  are  rather  racked  and  torn  by 
disputes,  than  invested  with  command  by  works  and 
effects. 


XXIX.  — PROSERPINE,  OR  SPIRIT. 

EXPLAINED  OF  THE  SPIRIT  INCLUDED  IN  NATURAL  BODIES. 

They  tell  us,  Pluto  having,  upon  that  memorable 
division  of  empire  among  the  gods,  received  the  iiv- 
fernal  regions  for  his  share,  despaired  of  winning  any 
one  of  the  goddesses  in  marriage  by  an  obsequious 
courtship,  and  therefore  through  necessity  resolved 
upon  a  rape.  Having  watched  his  opportunity,  he 
suddenly  seized  upon  Proserpine,  a  most  beautiful 
virgin,  the  daughter  of  Ceres,  as  she  was  gathering 
narcissus  flowers  in  the  meads  of  Sicily,  and  hurrying 


414  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

her  to  his  chariot,  carried  her  with  him  to  the  sub- 
terraneal  regions,  where  she  was  treated  with  the 
highest  reverence,  and  styled  the  Lady  of  Dis.  But 
Ceres,  missing  her  only  daughter,  whom  she  extremely 
loved,  grew  pensive  and  anxious  beyond  measure,  and 
taking  a  lighted  torch  in  her  hand,  wandered  the 
world  over  in  quest  of  her  daughter, —  but  all  to  no 
purpose,  till,  suspecting  she  might  be  carried  to  the 
infernal  regions,  she,  with  great  lamentation  and 
abundance  of  tears,  importuned  Jupiter  to  restore  her ; 
and  with  much  ado  prevailed  so  far  as  to  recover  and 
bring  her  away,  if  she  had  tasted  nothing  there.  This 
proved  a  hard  condition  upon  the  mother,  for  Proser- 
pine was  found  to  have  eaten  three  kernels  of  a 
pomegranate.  Ceres,  however,  desisted  not,  but  fell 
to  her  entreaties  and  lamentations  afresh,  insomuch 
that  at  last  it  was  indulged  her  that  Proserpine  should 
divide  the  year  betwixt  her  husband  and  her  mother, 
and  live  six  months  with  the  one  and  as  many  with 
the  other.  After  this,  Theseus  and  Perithous,  with 
uncommon  audacity,  attempted  to  force  Proserpine 
away  from  Pluto's  bed,  but  happening  to  grow  tired 
in  their  journey,  and  resting  themselves  upon  a  stone 
in  the  realms  below,  they  could  never  rise  from  it 
again,  but  remain  sitting  there  forever.  Proserpine, 
therefore,  still  continued  queen  of  the  lower  regions, 
in  honor  of  whom  there  was  also  added  this  grand 
privilege,  that  though  it  had  never  been  permitted  any 
one  to  return  after  having  once  descended  thither,  a 
particular  exception  was  made,  that  he  who  brought  a 


PROSERPINE,  OR  SPIRIT.  415 

golden  bough  as  a  present  to  Proserpine,  might  on 
that  condition  descend  and  return.  This  was  an  only 
bough  that  grew  in  a  large  dark  grove,  not  from  a 
tree  of  its  own,  but  like  the  mistletoe  from  another, 
and  when  plucked  away  a  fresh  one  always  shot  out 
in  its  stead. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  seems  to  regard  nat- 
ural philosophy,  and  searches  deep  into  that  rich  and 
fruitful  virtue  and  supply  in  subterraneous  bodies, 
from  whence  all  the  things  upon  the  earth's  surface 
spring,  and  into  which  they  again  relapse  and  return. 
By  Proserpine,  the  ancients  denoted  that  ethereal 
spirit  shut  up  and  detained  within  the  earth,  here 
represented  by  Pluto,  —  the  spirit  being  separated 
from  the  superior  globe,  according  to  the  expression 
of  the  poet.  ^  This  spirit  is  conceived  as  ravished,  or 
snatched  up  by  the  earth,  because  it  can  in  no  way 
be  detained,  when  it  has  time  and  opportunity  to  fly 
off,  but  is  only  wrought  together  and  fixed  by  sudden 
intermixture  and  comminution,  in  the  same  manner  as 
if  one  should  endeavor  to  mix  air  with  water,  which 
cannot  otherwise  be  done  than  by  a  quick  and  rapid 
agitation,  that  joins  them  together  in  froth  whilst  the 
air  is  thus  caught  up  by  the  water.  And  it  is  ele- 
gantly added,  that  Proserpine  was  ravished  whilst  she 
gathered  narcissus  flowers,  which  have  their  name 
from  numbedness  or  stupefaction ;  for  the  spirit  we 

1  '*  Sive  recens  tellus,  seductaque  nuper  ab  alta 

.^there,  cognati  retinebat  semina  coeli."  —  Metam.  i.  80. 


416  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

speak  of  is  in  the  fittest  disposition  to  be  embraced  by 
terrestrial  matter  when  it  begins  to  coagulate,  or  grow 
torpid  as  it  were. 

It  is  an  honor  justly  attributed  to  Proserpine,  and 
not  to  any  other  wife  of  the  gods,  that  of  being  the 
lady  or  mistress  of  her  husband,  because  this  spirit 
performs  all  its  operations  in  the  subterraneal  regions, 
whilst  Pluto,  or  the  earth,  remains  stupid,  or  as  it 
were  ignorant  of  them. 

The  ether,  or  the  efficacy  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
denoted  by  Ceres,  endeavors  with  infinite  diligence  to 
force  out  this  spirit,  and  restore  it  to  its  pristine  state. 
And  by  the  torch  in  the  hand  of  Ceres,  or  the  ether, 
is  doubtless  meant  the  sun,  which  disperses  light  over 
the  whole  globe  of  the  earth,  and  if  the  thing  were 
possible,  must  have  the  greatest  share  in  recovering 
Proserpine,  or  reinstating  the  subterraneal  spirit. 
Yet  Proserpine  still  continues  and  dwells  below,  after 
the  manner  excellently  described  in  the  condition  be- 
twixt Jupiter  and  Ceres.  For  first,  it  is  certain  that 
there  are  two  ways  of  detaining  the  spirit,  in  solid  and 
terrestrial  matter,  —  the  one  by  condensation  or  ob- 
struction, which  is  mere  violence  and  imprisonment; 
the  other  by  administering  a  proper  aliment,  which  is 
spontaneous  and  free.  For  after  the  included  spirit 
begins  to  feed  and  nourish  itself,  it  is  not  in  a  hurry 
to  fly  off,  but  remains  as  it  were  fixed  in  its  own 
earth.  And  this  is  the  moral  of  Proserpine's  tasting 
the  pomegranate  ;  and  were  it  not  for  this,  she  must 
long  ago  have  been  carried  up  by  Ceres,  who  with 


PROSERPINE,   OR  SPIRIT.  417 

her  torch  wandered  the  world  over,  and  so  the  earth 
have  been  left  without  its  spirit.  For  though  the 
spirit  in  metals  and  minerals  may  perhaps  be,  after  a 
particular  manner,  wrought  in  by  the  solidity  of  the 
mass,  yet  the  spirit  of  vegetables  and  animals  has 
open  passages  to  escape  at,  unless  it  be  willingly 
detained,  in  the  way  of  sipping  and  tasting  them. 

The  second  article  of  agreement,  that  of  Proser- 
pine's remaining  six  months  with  her  mother  and 
six  with  her  husband,  is  an  elegant  description  of 
the  division  of  the  year ;  for  the  spirit  diffused 
through  the  earth  lives  above-ground  in  the  vege- 
table world  during  the  summer  months,  but  in  the 
winter  returns  under  ground  again. 

The  attempt  of  Theseus  and  Perithous  to  bring 
Proserpine  away,  denotes  that  the  more  subtile 
spirits,  which  descend  in  many  bodies  to  the  earth, 
may  frequently  be  unable  to  drink  in,  unite  with 
themselves,  and  carry  off  the  subterraneous  spirit, 
but  on  the  contrary  be  coagulated  by  it,  and  rise 
no  more,  so  as  to  increase  the  inhabitants  and  add 
to  the  dominion  of  Proserpine.^ 

The  alchemists  will  be  apt  to  fall  in  with  our  in- 
terpretation of  the  golden  bough,  whether  we  will 
or  no,  because  they  promise  golden  mountains,  and 

'  Many  philosophers  have  certain  speculations  to  this  purpose. 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  in  particular,  suspects  that  the  earth  receives 
its  vivifying  spirit  from  the  comets.  And  the  philosophical 
chemists  and  astrologers  have  spun  the  thought  into  many  fan- 
tastical distinctions  and  varieties.  —  See  Newton,  Prindp.  lib.  iii. 
p.  473,  &c. 

27 


418  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

the  restoration  of  natural  bodies  from  their  stone, 
as  from  the  gates  of  Pluto ;  but  we  are  well  as- 
sured that  their  theory  had  no  jiLst  foundation,  and 
suspect  they  have  no  very  encouraging  or  practical 
proofs  of  its  soundness.  Leaving,  therefore,  their 
conceits  to  themselves,  we  shall  freely  declare  our 
own  sentiments  upon  this  last  part  of  the  fable. 
We  are  certain,  from  numerous  figures  and  expres- 
sions of  the  ancients,  that  they  judged  the  conserva- 
tion, and  in  some  degree  the  renovation,  of  natural 
bodies  to  be  no  desperate  or  impossible  thing,  but 
rather  abstruse  and  out  of  the  common  road  than 
wholly  impracticable.  And  this  seems  to  be  their 
opinion  in  the  present  case,  as  they  have  placed 
this  bough  among  an  infinite  number  of  shrubs,  in 
a  spacious  and  thick  wood.  They  supposed  it  of 
gold,  because  gold  is  the  emblem  of  duration.  They 
feigned  it  adventitious,  not  native,  because  such  an 
eflfect  is  to  be  expected  from  art,  and  not  from  any 
medicine  or  any  simple  or  mere  natural  way  of 
working. 


METIS,  OR  COUNSEL.  419 

XXX.  — METIS,  OR  COUNSEL. 

EXPLAINED    OF    PRINCES   AND   THEIR   COUNCIL. 

The  ancient  poets  relate  that  Jupiter  took  Metis 
to  wife,  whose  name  plainly  denotes  counsel,  and 
that  he,  perceiving  she  was  pregnant  by  him,  would 
by  no  means  wait  the  time  of  her  delivery,  but  di- 
rectly devoured  her;  whence  himself  also  became 
pregnant,  and  was  delivered  in  a  wonderful  manner ; 
for  he  from  his  head  or  brain  brought  forth  Pallas 
armed. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable,  which  in  its  literal 
sense  appears  monstrously  absurd,  seems  to  con- 
tain a  state  secret,  and  shows  with  what  art  kings 
usually  carry  themselves  towards  their  council,  in 
order  to  preserve  their  own  authority  and  majesty 
not  only  inviolate,  but  so  as  to  have  it  magnified 
and  heightened  among  the  people.  For  kings 
commonly  link  themselves,  as  it  were,  in  a  nuptial 
bond  to  their  council,  and  deliberate  and  communi- 
cate with  them  after  a  prudent  and  laudable  custom 
upon  matters  of  the  greatest  importance,  at  the 
same  time  justly  conceiving  this  no  diminution  of 
their  majesty;  but  when  the  matter  once  ripens  to 
a  decree  or  order,  which  is  a  kind  of  birth,  the 
king  then  suffers  the  council  to  go  on  no  further, 


420  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

lest  the  act  should  seem  to  depend  upon  their  pleas- 
ure. Now,  therefore,  the  king  usually  assumes  to 
himself  whatever  was  wrought,  elaborated,  or  formed, 
as  it  were,  in  the  womb  of  the  council  (unless  it  be 
a  matter  of  an  invidious  nature,  which  he  is  sure 
to  put  from  him),  so  that  the  decree  and  the  execu- 
tion shall  seem  to  flow  from  himself.^  And  as  this  de- 
cree or  execution  proceeds  with  prudence  and  power, 
so  as  to  imply  necessity,  it  is  elegantly  wrapped 
up  under  the  figure  of  Pallas  armed. 

Nor  are  kings  content  to  have  this  seem  the  effect 
of  their  own  authority,  free  will,  and  uncontrollable 
choice,  unless  they  also  take  the  whole  honor  to 
themselves,  and  make  the  people  imagine  that  all 
good  and  wholesome  decrees  proceed  entirely  from 
their  own  head,  that  is,  their  own  sole  prudence  and 
judgment. 


XXXI.  — THE  SIRENS,  OR  PLEASURES. 

EXPLAINED    OF   MEN's    PASSION    FOR    PLEASURES. 

Introduction. — The  fable  of  the  Sirens  is,  in 
a  vulgar  sense,  justly  enough  explained  of  the 
pernicious   incentives   to   pleasure ;  but  the   ancient 

1  This  policy  strikingly  characterized  the  condtict  of  Louis  XIV., 
who  placed  his  generals  under  a  particular  injunction,  to  advertise 
hiui  of  the  success  of  any  siege  likely  to  be  crowned  with  an  im- 
mediate triumph,  that  he  might  attend  in  person  and  appear  to 
take  the  town  by  a  coup  de  main. 


THE  SIEENS,  OR  PLEASURES.  421 

mythology  seems  to  us  like  a  vintage  ill-pressed  and 
trod ;  for  though  something  has  been  drawn  from  it, 
yet  all  the  more  excellent  parts  remain  behind  in  the 
grapes  that  are  untouched. 

Fable.  —  The  Sirens  are  said  to  be  the  daughters 
of  Achelous  and  Terpsichore,  one  of  the  Muses.  In 
their  early  days  they  had  wings,  but  lost  them  upon 
being  conquered  by  the  Muses,  with  whom  they 
rashly  contended;  and  with  the  feathers  of  these 
wings  the  Muses  made  themselves  crowns,  so  that 
from  this  time  the  Muses  wore  wings  on  their  heads, 
except  only  the  mother  to  the  Sirens. 

These  Sirens  resided  in  certain  pleasant  islands, 
and  when,  from  their  watch-tower,  they  saw  any 
ship  approaching,  they  first  detained  the  sailors  by 
their  music,  then,  enticing  them  to  shore,  destroyed 
them. 

Their  singing  was  not  of  one  and  the  same  kind, 
but  they  adapted  their  tunes  exactly  to  the  nature 
of  each  person,  in  order  to  captivate  and  secure  him. 
And  so  destructive  had  they  been,  that  these  islands 
of  the  Sirens  appeared,  to  a  very  great  distance, 
white  with  the  bones  of  their  unburied  captives. 

TSvo  different  remedies  were  invented  to  protect 
persons  against  them,  the  one  by  Ulysses,  the  other 
by  Orpheus.  Ulysses  commanded  his  associates  to 
stop  their  ears  close  with  wax ;  and  he,  determining 
to  make  the  trial,  and  yet  avoid  the  danger,  ordered 
himself  to  be  tied  fast  to  a  mast  of  the  ship,  giving 


422  WISDOM  OP  THE  ANCIENTS. 

strict  charge  not  to  be  unbound,  even  though  him- 
self should  entreat  it ;  but  Orpheus,  without  any 
binding  at  all,  escaped  the  danger,  by  loudly  chant- 
ing to  his  harp  the  praises  of  the  gods,  whereby  he 
drowned  the  voices  of  the  Sirens. 

Explanation.  —  This  fable  is  of  the  moral  kind, 
and  appears  no  less  elegant  than  easy  to  interpret. 
For  pleasures  proceed  from  plenty  and  affluence, 
attended  with  activity  or  exultation  of  the  mind.^ 
Anciently  their  first  incentives  were  quick,  and 
seized  upon  men  as  if  they  had  been  winged,  but 
learning  and  philosophy  afterwards  prevailing,  had 
at  least  the  power  to  lay  the  mind  under  some  re- 
straint, and  make  it  consider  the  issue  of  things,  and 
thus  deprived  pleasures  of  their  wings. 

This  conquest  redounded  greatly  to  the  honor  and 
ornament  of  the  Muses;  for  after  it  appeared,  by 
the  example  of  a  few,  that  philosophy  could  intro- 
duce a  contempt  of  pleasures,  it  immediately  seemed 
to  be  a  sublime  thing  that  could  raise  and  elevate 
the  soul,  fixed  in  a  manner  down  to  the  earth,  and 
thus  render  men's  thoughts,  which  reside  in  the  head, 
winged  as  it  were,  or  sublime. 

Only  the  mother  of  the  Sirens  was  not  thus  plumed 
on  the  head,  which  doubtless  denotes  superficial 
learning,  invented  and  used  for  delight  and  levity; 

^  The  one  denoted  by  the  river  Achelous,  and  the  other  by 
Terpsichore,  the  muse  that  invented  the  cithara  and  delighted  in 
dancing. 


THE  SIRENS,  OR  PLEASURES.  423 

an  eminent  example  whereof  we  hare  in  Petronius, 
who,  after  receiving  sentence  of  death,  still  continued 
his  gay  frothy  humor,  and  as  Tacitus  observes,  used 
his  learning  to  solace  or  divert  himself,  and  instead 
of  such  discourses  as  give  firmness  and  constancy 
of  mind,  read  nothing  but  loose  poems  and  verses.^ 
Such  learning  as  this  seems  to  pluck  the  crowns 
again  from  the  Muses'  heads,  and  restore  them  to 
the  Sirens. 

The  Sirens  are  said  to  inhabit  certain  islands,  be- 
cause pleasures  generally  seek  retirement,  and  often 
shun  society.  And  for  their  songs,  with  the  mani- 
fold artifice  and  destructiveness  thereof,  this  is  too 
obvious  and  common  to  need  explanation.  But 
that  particular  of  the  bones  stretching  like  white 
cliffs  along  the  shores,  and  appearing  afar  off",  con- 
tains a  more  subtile  allegory,  and  denotes  that  the 
examples  of  others'  calamity  and  misfortunes,  though 
ever  so  manifest  and  apparent,  have  yet  but  little 
force  to  deter  the  corrupt  nature  of  man  from 
pleasures. 

The  allegory  of  the  remedies  against  the  Sirens 
is  not  difficult,  but  very  wise  and  noble ;  it  proposes, 

1  "Vivamus,  mea  Lesbia,  atque  amemus  ; 
Rumoresque  senum  severiorum 
Omnes  unius  estiraemus  assis. "  —  Catull.  Eleg.  v. 

And.  again  — 

"  Jura  senes  norint,  et  quod  sit  fasque  nefasque 
Inquirant  tristes  ;  legumque  examina  servent." 

Metam.  iz.  550. 


424  WISDOM  OF  THE  ANCIENTS. 

in  effect,  three  remedies,  as  well  against  subtile  as 
violent  mischiefs,  two  dra%vn  from  philosopliy  and 
one  from  religion. 

The  first  means  of  escaping  is  to  resist  the  earli- 
est temptation  in  the  beginning,  and  diligently  avoid 
and  cut  off  all  occasions  that  may  solicit  or  sway 
the  mind ;  and  this  is  well  represented  by  shutting 
up  the  ears,  a  kind  of  remedy  to  be  necessarily  used 
with  mean  and  vulgar  minds,  such  as  the  retinue  of 
Ulysses. 

But  nobler  spirits  may  converse,  even  in  the  midst 
of  pleasures,  if  the  mind  be  well  guarded  Avith 
constancy  and  resolution.  And  thus  some  delight 
to  make  a  severe  trial  of  their  own  virtue,  and 
thoroughly  acquaint  themselves  with  the  folly  and 
madness  of  pleasures,  without  complying  or  being 
wholly  given  up  to  them ;  which  is  what  Solomon 
professes  of  himself  when  he  closes  the  account  of 
all  the  numerous  pleasures  he  gave  a  loose  to,  with 
this  expression :  "  But  wisdom  still  continued  with 
me."  Such  heroes  in  virtue  may,  therefore,  remain 
unmoved  by  the  greatest  incentives  to  pleasure, 
and  stop  themselves  on  the  very  precipice  of  dan- 
ger; if,  according  to  the  example  of  Ulysses,  they 
turn  a  deaf  ear  to  pernicious  counsel,  and  the 
flatteries  of  their  friends  and  companions,  which 
have  the  greatest  power  to  shake  and  unsettle 
the  mind. 

But  the  most  excellent  remedy,  in  every  tempta- 
tion, is  that  of  Orpheus,  who,  by  loudly  chanting 


THE  SIRENS,  OR  PLEASURES.  425 

and  resounding  the  praises  of  the  gods,  confounded 
the  voices,  and  kept  himself  from  hearing  the  music 
of  the  Sirens ;  for  divine  contemplations  exceed  the 
pleasures  of  sense,  not  only  in  power  but  also  in 
sweetness. 


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